When It Rains
by deeforthewin
Summary: Something happened to Eric in Africa, and he never came back. Jackie has to fight her own demons in Point Place. Somehow they find each other and love finds them both. Everything takes place from mid-season 8, so it's more or less canon till that point. Therefore, Sam exists, but the thing with Fez doesn't. :)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I didn't watch past episode 4 of Season 8 so some details might be off.

Well, first let it be known that I ship J/H. But having read so many stories here on Fanfiction, to help deal with the mental breakdown I had because S8 was _such_ a mind-blowing disaster. _Any_ way. I started out with a J/E friendship and eventual J/H in mind. Butttt…. Eh. I started writing and things started to progress and well… Post-Africa Eric is Just. So. Intriguing.

And I couldn't help it. I thought they needed each other more. So this one is for all the J/E fans out there. I'm sorry Zennies!

If Eric is OOC, it's because it's post-S7, post-Africa and I think Eric after that is fair-game.

* * *

 **I**

 **Point Place**

 _January 1979_

"Steven, I'm breaking up with you."

Though her words were thus, her eyes however were telling a different message. _Please ask me to stay._

The first thing a person noticed about Jackie Burkhart had to be her eyes. If you asked her, she would dismiss them as an ordinary brown, but in truth it was a most intriguing shade of brown that reflected her every thought and emotion, and could count among its conquests, the melting of the iciest, most immoveable heart (though, said heart _,_ on the other hand, would vehemently deny its own existence).

And at that moment, though her words were one thing, her eyes were telling Steven Hyde a whole different story. They told him that she loved him. They told him that she needed him. They told him that she ached for him. _Please ask me to stay._ They pleaded and they begged. _Steven, please_. _Choose me._

He read all that with just one look into her mesmerizing eyes but he said the words anyway. It killed him to say them, but he did anyway.

"Whatever, Jackie."

He said them because of Chicago. Because he was mad. Because he was beyond hurt. Because he wanted to see her suffer as he had suffered when she broke him.

Her face crumpled and he welcomed the rush he felt. He was unfeeling, he was infallible, he was indestructible. And most importantly he had regained the upper hand.

 _Whatever, Jackie._

His words echoed in the hollow silence of the basement and she held on to whatever shred that was left of her pride and fought back tears. Lifting her chin she swept out of the basement with as much dignity as she could muster.

 _Ask me to stay Steven, please ask me to stay._

But once again, the words that she wanted so desperately to hear, never made it past his lips.

* * *

Back in the basement, without so much as a flicker of an eyelid, Hyde watched her go.

Inside though, he wrestled with a gamut of thoughts and emotions. He squelched them down ruthlessly, shielding himself once again with his unassailable fortress of Zen, until only one clear thought rose high above the rest:

 _She was gone, and he was safe._


	2. Chapter 2

It was a miserable day in Point Place, and just another one in the string of miserable weeks that Jackie had been having since Steven had left and vanished off the face of the earth.

But Jackie did not know sheer agony until she found out that he had come back.

But not alone.

And married.

To a _stripper._

She had begged and pleaded and tried every trick in her book of feminine wiles to get him to dump the skank and choose her, oh please choose her.

But he had turned that shaded gaze upon her, shrugged on that mantle of Zen and muttered, "Whatever, Jackie."

She broke, and it had taken Fez and Donna both to haul her screaming out of the basement and convince her to drown her sorrows in a dingy bar, where as if to add insult to injury she wound up flashing her perfectly perky breasts to the entire room.

She ended the evening alone, puking her guts up in Donna's toilet with her hair plastered over her face, crying over the memory of Steven holding her hair back the last time she had gotten sick from drinking too much like that.

She had taken pains to avoid Steven for the entire week after, spying on the Formans' from behind plaid (yuck) curtains from Donna's bedroom, all the while hoping that the time and space would give him time to think things over and change his mind.

"Why hasn't she moved out yet?"

Donna glanced up with some irritation at Jackie's question. Jackie didn't notice, her eyes were glued to the same spot it had been the past seven days.

Donna ignored her and glanced back down at the words scrawled across the letter pad:

 _Dear Eric, Come home._

She started tapping her pen in a fierce tattoo against the letter pad.

Donna was missing Eric something fierce. She felt lost and off kilter. Like a ship tossed about in storm-ridden waters with no sense of how to get back to shore. She supposed she had kind of always taken Eric for granted. He was always just _there_ ; his devotion and love for her apparent in everything he did. But now he was gone. Just up and disappeared, _poof!_ in a puff of smoke to Africa.

She had never bought that he had done it for the both of them, despite his never failing insistence that it was. She needed to be consulted, dammit, and he had made the decision on his own with the freaking guidance counselor without even _asking_ her first. But he didn't, and she felt left behind.

She was hurt, she was aching and she was confused. She didn't understand. And a part of her was outraged at what he had done to them. They were _the_ couple in the group. The one that was going to make it. And after all they had been through and survived together. Now it looked like along with Jackie and Hyde, their relationship was going to the wind as well.

A loud bang made her look up and Jackie sit up from her spot behind the window. They both saw a busty blonde hurry out of the basement and disappear down the street outside the Formans' house.

Jackie turned to Donna with hope in her eyes. It made Donna cringe. She didn't think that Jackie would be that naive. Not after what she did with Kelso. The scene in the basement with Hyde that day had been borderline pathetic, and the night at the bar had sunk her to a new low.

"Jackie...," she started, but was cut off when her friend hopped off her perch by the window and started smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt.

"I knew it!" she said excitedly. "I knew Steven wouldn't let that trash come between us!"

Donna swallowed her impatience and strove for an even tone. "Jackie," she tried again, "you know Hyde. I think he made his feelings pretty clear the other day."

Jackie either didn't hear her or chose not to. She started dragging a brush through her hair, her mind racing a mile a dozen at the myriad of ways she and Steven would fall back into each other's arms.

Before Donna could say another word, she was out of the bedroom and flying down the stairs.

Donna sighed, too preoccupied with her own aching heart to try to prevent another break in her friend's.

She ripped the half-written letter out of the pad and balled it up. She got up from her desk and threw it into the waste paper basket where all the other similarly worded letters were littered around it. Then she grabbed her jacket and left the house before Jackie could come crying back into the room.

* * *

And crying back into the room Jackie did come. Nasty, ugly and snotty kind of crying as she tearfully wailed out that Steven had chosen his wife over her. And that Sam was moving in, and Hyde had been helping her get his stuff settled into his room at the basement.

Donna sighed, wished she had stayed out later, bit back an "I told you so" and mechanically patted her friend's back instead. Her own thoughts were elsewhere, and she was tired of drama. She heard Jackie mumble "Eric" in her otherwise incoherent bout of sobs and it brought her back to the present.

" _Sob... Sob..._ right?"

"What's that?"

A loud blow of Jackie's nose then, "I _said_ , at least Eric left to give you guys a better chance for the future."

Donna bristled. The subject of Eric was a touchy one with her.

"...I mean, ( _hiccup)_ yeah, he's a skinny, geeky, twitchy nerd and all, but he _knows_ what he wants and he's brave enough to do it." Jackie swiped at her eyes. "I know you're _(hiccup)_ missing him and all, but still, you're so lucky," she said mournfully.

To her surprise, Donna sat up angrily, nearly toppling Jackie off the bed. "Well _no_. I don't _miss_ him. I'm mad at him! He left! I asked him to stay and he left anyway. He wasn't supposed to do that! _Lucky?!"_ She scoffed.

Jackie stared at her bleary-eyed. "He knows what he wants," she repeated cautiously. "You gotta admire that at least."

"Yeah, but what he wants isn't me. And there's _nothing_ to admire about that."

Donna jumped off the bed and stalked to the dresser. "I can't believe I tried to comfort you and you're defending Eric to me." She violently pulled open her drawer and slammed it shut again.

Jackie stared after her with her mouth open. She wasn't sure why Donna could think that. Eric was planning for their _future,_ while Steven was busy spitting on their past. Eric didn't leave to leave Donna behind, he left so he could come back better for her. Always for her. Surely she wouldn't be mad at that?

"I'm not defending Eric to you. I'm just saying that-"

"Save it, Jackie," Donna interrupted with a sharp wave of her hand. "Just... Look. You're really not in the best position to offer relationship advice, okay?"

Hurt flashed across Jackie's features and she lowered her dark head.

Donna didn't notice. She picked up her jacket from across the chair where she left it and shrugged it on, pushing at her hair in frustration.

Jackie looked up, and fully took in her friend's tense expression for the first time. "Donna... I didn't mean to-"

Donna sighed, cutting her off. She really didn't want to hear it. "Look, you've got to get over this situation with Hyde. He's _married_ now. This isn't like before when you guys can just kiss and make up or whatever."

"But—"

"Whatever it is that you think you had, it's pretty obvious that it's over, okay?" She stopped at Jackie's sharp intake of breath and turned to face her. "Look, honestly Jackie. This is hard to take but, you kinda _did_ sleep with Kelso."

Jackie's eyes went wide and she found it difficult to breathe. "Y-you think I slept with Michael?" she asked disbelievingly.

Donna blew out a frustrated breath. "It doesn't matter what I think, okay? Things are what they are now and I just-, I, ugh, I think I'm gonna step out for a bit." She tossed another box of Kleenex onto the bed. "Here."

If it was even possible, Jackie felt her insides rent a bit more. She stared at her best friend, wondering if it was possible to wake up from this nightmare which was now her life.

Donna hesitated, but only a little, as she looked at Jackie's forlorn figure on the bed. Then she shook her head and left the room.

* * *

 _What was Jackie's problem?_ Donna thought as she pushed the door to The Hub open.

Anyone could see that she and Hyde would never make it this time. Hyde was notoriously possessive, and even more so when it came to her past with Kelso. He barely tolerated her hanging out with him; yet Jackie had actually insisted that Kelso drive her all the way to Chicago. That was just asking for it in Donna's opinion. Sometimes she didn't get how her friend's mind worked. And for Jackie to say that what Eric had done was for the good of their future! What future? The present was already looking pretty bad. His phone calls had dwindled, and she had to admit she hadn't always been as eager as she used to be when it came to writing him. She was just so sick of the situation. At the rate things were going, there won't _be_ a future for them at all, she thought darkly.

She squashed down the feeling of jealousy that it had been Eric who was leaving this Podunk town first out of all of them. She loved him of course, but of all of the gang, it had been _she_ who was the brightest star, the one most likely to make something of herself. Definitely not Eric. She felt mean and petty for feeling that way, but it _was_ a bitter pill to swallow. She pushed back tears. Despite everything, she still missed him. _Why did he have to leave?_

Her attention was drawn to Kelso's lanky form at their usual table. He was gesturing animatedly in typical Kelso fashion to a guy with the most magnificent hair Donna had ever seen on a man. She made her way over to where they were.

Kelso looked up and saw her. "Donna!" He greeted her exuberantly and kicked a chair out for her to sit.

Donna's eyes were drawn to the stranger. He flashed her a megawatt smile and she felt her breath hitch. He was _very_ attractive.

Kelso seemed to notice and he gave her a knowing grin. She blushed slightly.

"Donna," he said, "meet Randy. Randy, this is Donna."


	3. Chapter 3

_Two weeks later_

Standing by the basement door, Jackie tried to ignore the blonde girl on Hyde's lap.

There it was again, the familiar sharp pain that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in the region of her heart. They weren't even making out, just watching TV, and somehow that made it worse, as she forced herself to try and forget that she was the only girl he ever wanted to keep that close to him before.

Instead, she told herself that Steven looked really uncomfortable with the skank perched there. Sam just wasn't of the right physical stature. She was too tall, too long, too thin, too…. Giraffe-like. That's it. She looked like a freaking giraffe. No offence to giraffes, she thought snidely.

Her gaze landed on Fez on the couch, and she willed him to stand up for her this time. He was oblivious to her look, his attention full on a bra-less Sam wriggling and jiggling on Hyde's lap.

"Jackie..."

Jackie turned back to the argument that she was having with Donna who was fiddling with the dials on the TV, and fixed a look of incredulity on her face.

"Really, Donna? Not one single thing? I was your best friend for years and you couldn't think of a _single reason_ why we are friends?"

"God Jackie. Stop over-reacting okay!" Donna finally snapped. She rolled her eyes. "It's no frickin' big deal. I was high. Jeeze!" She crossed the room and flopped down on the couch. "Hyde, tell her she's over-reacting."

Jackie's heart sank. She looked over at him, hoping that Steven would at least say something in her defence, but knowing that he probably wouldn't.

The past two weeks had been brutal. He had burned her every chance he got. Cruel, malicious taunts designed to inflict maximum pain and humiliation. It was as if he _hated_ her and to make matters worse, it seemed that everywhere she turned, his floozy of a wife was strutting around in see-through tops and barely-there shorts.

It had gotten so bad that she found herself on edge every time she walked into a room and saw him in it. She avoided Grooves, she avoided The Hub, and the only reason she was in the basement now was because of the joke of a slumber party that Donna had insisted they have last night.

And invited Sam to.

He barely spared her a glance. "Shut it, Jackie." He took a sip of his beer. "So Donna drew a blank - no surprise there. Now go away 'cos I can't watch TV with you squawkin'."

Sam laughed. Donna looked at Jackie and crossed her arms.

There was a rushing in her ears. She stood there, numb. This wasn't her friend of so many years. Her eyes went to Steven. And this wasn't the man that she had loved, still love —God help her—, with all her young heart. This wasn't the man who took her in, held her in arms when no one else was around to. No. This wasn't him at all.

She fought the urge to turn and flee. Where could she go? What other friends did she have? Eric was gone. Michael was gone. And though she hated to admit it, even if Michael hadn't moved to Chicago she still wouldn't have sought him out because of some misguided loyalty to Steven. So she sucked it up and threw them both a vicious glare, pointedly ignoring Sam and sank down gracefully on the lawn chair nearest the door.

Five minutes later, she decided she couldn't have picked a worse spot. For the lawn chair was directly across Sam and Steven. And if she had wanted a first class ticket to hell she couldn't have picked a better seat. For although she was pretending with all her might to watch television, she could see where Sam's fingers were entangled in Steven's hair at the nape of his neck.

As Sam reached to pull his face up in a open-mouthed kiss, Jackie wanted to rip her whorish hair out by the roots. When she saw Steven's fingers flutter across Sam's bare hip she fought the urge to throw up.

She glanced at Donna who was staring at the TV, looking bored. She forced herself to appear similarly unaffected. But she was _dying_ inside. When she saw Sam's stripper-red nails slide up under Steven's shirt something snapped and she grabbed a cushion from the couch and hurled it at them.

They broke apart, shocked.

"What the hell!" (Steven)

"Bitch!" (Sam)

She glared at Sam and dove for the other cushion. Putting in all the force she had in her small frame, she threw it at her smug, fake, skanky face.

Sam shrieked.

Hyde rose angrily to his feet, and Sam fell off his lap in the process.

"Baby!" she squawked.

Jackie swallowed a smirk.

"What in freakin' hell is wrong with you?" he yelled at her. "Of all the goddamn childish things to do!"

Jackie saw red. _Goddamn Steven Hyde._ She reached down and pulled off a beautiful designer clog and threw it at his stupid curly head. It bounced off his forehead with a most satisfying clunk. Then she turned and fled up the basement stairs, hearing a loud bang against the basement door as he flung the offending shoe in her wake.

* * *

Jackie limped back to the Pinciotti's, adding the loss of her clog to the escalating number of things she had already lost as tears of rage and impotence coursed down her cheeks. She had gone straight back to bed, praying that somehow Steven would burst in and tell her it was a bad dream. Praying that Donna would come through the door and tell her that everything would be alright. But no one came. And she had never felt more alone.

The thing was, Steven's marriage didn't matter to her. Yes, she was betrayed. Yes, she was hurt, but if he had asked or even _hinted_ that he wanted her to wait for him, to stay, she would have.

She would waited out the duration of his farce of a marriage, waited for him to sort it out, because she loved him. She would have forgiven him anything. Anything at all, if only he would come back to her. But this was something else entirely. She realized that she was shaking and wrapped her arms around her middle, desperately fighting to keep her emotions in control.

That night, after raining more tears all over the pages of her diary, she decided that it was best to move out of Donna's. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and her former best friend, her former boyfriend and his stripper wife, as possible.


	4. Chapter 4

_Africa_

The sun was blazing high in the cloudless blue sky, and the air outside was hot and dusty. The rugged road that they were traveling on stretched far into the horizon and they were miles away from civilization. Eric Forman strained to make out the words on yet another broken down sign a couple of meters ahead, only to sigh in disappointment as they zoomed past and he found it defaced yet again.

Despite having lived in Wisconsin his whole life, Eric found himself adapting to Africa in no time at all. From the very first day that he had first set foot in the continent three months ago, Eric had felt a magnetic pull from the land. Here, in Africa, he was no one, had no past, and he could be anyone. For the first time in his life, he felt free. Free from the parameters that were thrust upon him since childhood, of being Red and Kitty Forman's son. Or Donna Pinciotti's skinny boyfriend. Or Steven Hyde's forgettable best friend. He had always been defined by the people around him, and the thing was that he didn't even know that he had any shackles on until he stepped off the plane and breathed in the chalky air, and felt them all fall off.

It wasn't all romance though, and Eric had learnt to have no illusions about the rawness of Africa, which he had come face-to-face with mere hours after he left the airport all those weeks ago.

At present though, Eric had more pressing issues affecting him, namely, that the air-conditioning in their small jeep had finally puttered and died, and the spinning wheels were throwing sand and stone up into the open window. Breathing was difficult because the vehicle was belching diesel fumes and Eric was feeling the beginnings of a headache start.

"How much further?" he asked Baako.

"About an hour or so till we clear the border, and then another hour or two from there."

Eric had met the Christian missionary two weeks ago. He had arrived at the village that Eric was stationed at with a wide smile and to spread the word of the Lord. Although he had never been particularly religious himself — his Sundays were spent being dragged to church by the skin of his teeth or threatened with a foot up his ass — Eric bonded fairly quickly with the man, taken in by the portly man's easy manner and fluency in the English language.

Baako was from Ghana, far to the west, and Ghana being the richest country in Africa, was also more open to influences from the more developed countries in the world, in particular, the Western powers. The story was that Baako was baptized by the English priest whom he had met back in Ghana a decade ago and had been traveling all around Africa to spread the Christian faith ever since.

Eric had loved where his sponsorship program had set him up. The people there were used to foreigners, and as such, most of them were already exposed to and had a relatively strong command of English. There was another fellow American posted there with him, an aid worker with the United Nations who was fluent in Swahili, and it was through her nightly tutoring that Eric was able to pick up the language as fast as he did.

His program requirements were centered around teaching, but along with his newfound awareness that his boundaries were truly limitless here, Eric was fascinated with African culture and their way of life. Outside of his teaching hours, he immersed himself in their daily activities and stood out from his predecessors and other volunteers alike, by how much a part of them he was willing to become. He tended to their livestock when they tended to their livestock; went trading with them when they went trading; ate with them; drank with them; and farmed with them.

Cropping was no easy task, and especially not when the principal crop where he was at was sugarcane. It was heavy and bulky, and cutting them down was grueling business. At first, his enthusiasm to help far out-shadowed his ability to do so, and the first week he was there, he struggled under the toil of physical labor. As the weeks went by, slowly but surely, his body caught up with his relentless will to perform and he was able to keep up with the strongest of them for the most physically intense work.

Through their nightly talks over c _hangaa,_ an alcoholic beverage distilled from millet and maize that was favored by the people in that region, he learnt that Baako was headed to Ethiopia next. There were a great many villages in Ethiopia who were incredibly keen for an education but were being denied the privilege for its government was less willing to open the country to aid. Eric was intrigued by the stories Baako told him of the Ethiopians and was spurred by a desire to see more and learn more about the continent that had already captured much of his heart. Add that to the fact that he felt that he was in an actual position to help, and could make a difference, created a pull that he could not resist nor ignore.

And so he packed up and traveled with the Christian African man to Ethiopia.

"Will we have trouble crossing the border?"

Baako flashed him a toothy grin. "Not if we slip them a couple of American dollars along with our passports."

Eric nodded in understanding. He rifled around in his backpack and pulled out a bandana that he used to tie around his nose and mouth in an attempt to block out the fumes and dust.

They arrived at the Ethiopian village that Baako was headed for with no trouble whatsoever. The people there welcomed him as genuinely as the people back in the first village that he had been staying at. They were excited to learn that he had come to stay with them for awhile and will be holding English lessons for the length of his stay. They spoke Hamer there, an Omotic language different from the Swahili that Eric was used to. Still and all, even with the slight communication mishap here and there, with his natural charm and easygoing ways, Eric was well-liked and warmly accepted.

The days in this new place too, passed uneventfully, and along with livestock, which was vital to their livelihood, Eric learnt that the principal crop there was maize, instead of the sugarcane that he was used to. They were ripe for harvesting during his time there, and the sight of row upon row of golden corn was much to behold. It was a very different process from farming sugarcane that he had helped his villagers to do, but no less demanding.

And so again, he helped with the harvesting, along with the women and children. They were surprised and excited that he was willing to share in their work, and were impressed that he could hold his own among them. The children were kept to lighter work, and they danced around him and delighted in pointing out the finer points of cropping these with a series of hand gestures and miming. Eric was a quick learner, and was soon able to keep up with the men to be more of a help than a hindrance. It was back-breaking work, for like the village before, they lacked the heavy machinery available to farmers in wealthier nations, but they were happy doing it, for they had known no other easier way, and mostly they were simply grateful that the devastating effects of the droughts that plagued them had spared them during this reaping season.

The majority of the villagers' diet consisted of some part of the plant, and though it was rich in some minerals, a heavy reliance of maize in the diet could lead to malnutrition and vitamin deficiency diseases. Night blindness was a consequence, and Eric found that it was prevalent there.

The days blended into one another and Eric was usually seen in the mornings teaching in the open, under the shade of a huge tree, with a makeshift board and a long thin branch as a pointer. The sounds of the children's laughter could be heard often along with the cadence of his deep baritone. He had learnt to modify the pitch of his voice, for after the first few weeks he had spent teaching in Africa, he was out with severe laryngitis, having overstrained the use of his vocal chords at his usual key, as he had needed to speak continuously at a loud enough volume to be heard by a class of forty.

His afternoons he spent with the men, and he found that village work everywhere was much the same: building huts, ploughing the fields in preparation for the next seasonal crop and whatever else that needed to be done for the essentials of food and shelter. After a while, his morning classes in the new village grew again to include the women and men as well, and he went to bed every night with a deep sense of fulfillment.

* * *

It had happened early one night.

It was maybe three weeks to a month later, and two women went into labor at the same time. Their cries and grunts could be heard throughout the village.

Eric was sitting at a small table writing a letter home.

 _Dear Mom,_

 _I'm writing this from a village in southern Ethiopia by candlelight. I bet you find that romantic, but Mom, this is seriously an eyestrain. At this moment there seem to be a couple of women who've decided to go into labor together. There's a village midwife, but I can't help thinking that if you were here you'll be make them pop in no time. But it's just me, so it seems they won't be popping anytime soon—_

It would be the last real letter that he wrote back home.

Eric finished his letter a half an hour later, filling his family with details of his life, and being careful to avoid any mention of Donna. He thought it best this way, to make it a clean break. The distance had been hard on their relationship, and he had broken up with her weeks ago, feeling it was best if he left her free to pursue her own dreams.

She had always been a free spirit, and now that he was no longer in Point Place to chain her there, he thought that it was only fair for her to find herself too. He had to admit, when he had first learnt about Randy he had been jealous. And though he was grateful that he was told, he realized that Africa had done something to him. And though he had headed out here _because_ of Donna, it didn't feel much like that at all now.

Now he knew that he had come for himself, to discover himself, and he didn't feel the compulsion to plan his future around Donna's dreams, or the need to make Donna the center of his universe anymore. It was oddly liberating, and for the first time ever, he knew that he would be able to survive without her in his life. They were both too different, he acknowledged, and while he had always craved stability and commitment — and his time in Africa only cemented his need for those — she had never really valued those on her list of priorities.

The two women labored on, and Eric blew out the candles and got ready for bed.

A loud commotion woke him up several hours later. He glanced about him. It was still dark out, and there was a riot of screaming and crying and shouting going on outside. _What the hell was going on?_ Worried, he got out of bed and made for the door.

It flew noisily open before he could get to it and Baako came bursting in, wild-eyed and frantic. He saw Eric out of bed and held up his hands, blocking his way.

"Eric! No! Stay here."

And that was where it all went to hell.


	5. Chapter 5

_A month and a half later_

Kitty was in the kitchen baking when Donna came clomping up from the basement.

"Bye, Mrs. Forman." She headed to the sliding door.

"Donna, honey, before you go, has Eric written to you lately?"

"Er, not since the break-up letter, no, Mrs. Forman."

"Oh honey, I'm sorry to bring it up, I'm just wondering that's all. He must be really busy. I've only received one letter this month! Ahahaha!"

"That's okay, Mrs. Forman. I'll see ya later, okay?" She gave a smile and a wave. "I'm gonna go meet Randy at Grooves."

* * *

 _Argh! Friends? What friends?_ And again in her short life, Jackie felt completely alone. She _was_ alone, for she had no family to speak of and the only people that she had in Point Place were her friends, and the parents of her friends.

She touched her cheeks and her fingers came away wet. Tears. Again. She was deathly sick of crying all the time. She grabbed her diary. Again.

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Today was another horrible day —_

 _Screw it!_ she thought, throwing the book across her room in the apartment that she shared with Fez. She was sick and tired of venting in another inanimate object. She craved the human contact that she once had before everything fell to pieces and everyone seemed to leave her life. Writing in a crummy book that was fast running out of empty pages and soaked with tear stains just didn't cut it anymore. She flopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling, counting the little depressions and cracks on the surface.

Suddenly she sat up and reached for a sheaf of papers on her desk and started scribbling.

 _Dear Eric,_

 _Today was a horrible day —_

The first letter she wrote to Eric Forman started as nothing more than a craving for a human touch, someone she could share her feelings with without fear of cruel taunts and burns that would be fired back at her. It started with nothing more than having to tell _anyone,_ a real person, a friend, if he could be called that, how much the situation at home with Steven, with Donna, with the utter loneliness that she was facing everyday was eating her alive. She never really expected a reply. Or for that someone to care enough to write a three-page letter back.

Eric never really knew why he found himself writing a reply to Jackie where he couldn't bring himself to write a decent letter to anyone else. Only that he knew that sleep eluded him yet again that night. And images that he was desperately trying to forget rose unbidden when he closed his eyes. And perhaps also because she was the only one out of his circle of five friends that had… _What_? Mattered the least to him? So it was almost like starting a new friendship? A clean slate. No expectations. Or maybe it was simply the fact that she _had_ written. And that the things that she wrote about seemed removed, yet not so at the same time, from his life at home. Happier times. Or maybe because he needed an escape, to read about and live someone else's life for a while.

Or maybe because to a certain extent he understood what it was to be like in a personal hell that no one and nothing can seem to breach.

* * *

 _Five weeks later_

Jackie trudged back to the apartment after another hellish day at work. She had been screamed at, sent on wild errands, served endless cups of coffee to Christine St George and her 'VIP' guests, got sent back with getting the coffee order wrong, and a list of other things that made up a typical day at work in the life of Jackie Burkhart, former queen bee of Point Place.

Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered getting up in the mornings to go back there. Oh yes. The simple matter of room and board. Work or starve. Work or end up homeless. It was really a simple choice when it came down to that.

She unlocked the door and immediately zoomed in on a stack of mail sitting on the coffee table. Her spirits lifted and she kicked off her shoes and dove for them. She tossed envelope after envelope aside until she found the pale blue one that she had been waiting for. She hugged it gleefully to her chest and put the kettle on to boil before heading to her room to read the much anticipated letter from Eric.

 _Dear Jackie,_

 _I realize that it has only been three days since I last wrote to you, but I find that you pop into my mind pretty often. Thanks for the latest issues of Superman and X-Men, and I see that you've managed to send me a copy of Playboy as well._ You can't do that! _I'm a teacher, it's a respectable profession._

Jackie rolled her eyes and stifled a laugh. God he was so geeky, she thought fondly. She slowly read through the rest of his letter, savoring his words, and stopped when something caught her eye:

 _—when it's hard for me to sleep, I head out for walks and I wonder about the strangeness of life. At the series of events and coincidences that led me here to Africa—_

A slight frown marred her perfect features.

 _-nights here are beautiful. You'll love them. Sounds of nature (meaning bugs and owls and such) are amplified because there isn't a city full of people to drown it out.—_

 _—You can hear your own thoughts, though I'm beginning to long for pretty much anything to drown them out. I realize that I don't like the sound of my own thoughts that much after all._

 _Oh and hey, I'm out of Blow Pops so send more with your next letter, okay? The kids love them and I hand them out as a reward when they do really well on their assignments._

 _Hear from you soon._

 _Always,_

 _Eric_

The kettle whistled, pulling her out of her thoughts. She swung her feet off the bed and headed to the kitchen to turn the gas stove off, the furrow still there between her brows, and wondering at what Eric was not saying.

* * *

"Hey, Mrs. Forman."

Jackie pulled the sliding door open and stepped in with a smile. She had brought along a basket of fruit and a bottle of Peach Schnapps for Kitty, in part because she felt guilty that she hadn't been to visit as often as she used to when she was living with the Pinciottis.

Kitty turned from the stove where she was stirring a huge pot of pasta sauce to let out a small shriek and give her a huge smile.

"Jackie! Oh how are you, honey? You haven't been by in a while!"

She walked over to Kitty and by sheer instinct moved forward to give the older woman a warm hug. Kitty was surprised, Jackie's greetings usually weren't so effusive, but she smiled and returned the hug.

"It's good to see you, dear."

Jackie laughed, feeling like she had come home after a long time away. "Here, Mrs. Forman," she said, handing over the basket and bottle of Schnapps, "these are for you."

Kitty gave her a delighted look and ushered her to the table to sit down. "Thank you, Jackie. Here, have some brownies, I just baked them this morning." She placed a plate piled high with gooey brown goodness in front of her, then returned to the stove where her sauce sat simmering.

Jackie took large bite of The Best Brownies Ever. "God, these are so good." She swallowed a mouthful. "Are you gonna send some to Eric, Mrs. Forman?" she asked, expecting a long monologue from Kitty on the subject of Eric.

To her surprise, Kitty frowned, and stopped stirring to put a hand on her hip.

"Oh I always do, honey." She turned back to the pot again, but Jackie could see that something was bothering her. She took another huge bite and patiently waited for Kitty to continue.

"It's just that… Well, Eric hasn't been writing as often lately, and I wonder if he's been upset about Donna and—" her voice dropped and she hissed "— _Randy_."

Jackie stopped chewing. She was surprised that Eric hadn't written to his mother, considering that she was receiving three or four letters from him a week, but she hadn't really thought that it was because he was bothered about Donna. She made a mental note to ask him about it in her next letter, though she was willing to bet the last dollar of her very meagre bank balance that it wasn't the thing with Donna that was not sitting right with him.

She carefully thought through what she should say next, wondering if Kitty would be upset if she knew about the frequency of her correspondence with Eric, and yet needing to reassure her somehow.

She swallowed her brownie. "Eric wrote me recently, Mrs. Forman. He uh, I think he's very happy there. He did say that he had a lot to do. So uh, I think he's okay with Donna and Randy, you don't need to worry about that."

"Oh, that's just great that he wrote to you, dear." She looked up from her pot and smiled a strained smile.

"Heaven knows no one else seems to write him." She banged the spoon around in the pot a couple of times. "Kids going in and out of my house everyday but everyone seems to forget that he's over there all alone and they just move right on with their lives." Kitty flapped her hands in indignation.

Jackie heard the word 'blonde harlot' muttered under her breath a couple of times, but wasn't sure if it applied to Donna or Sam or both.

"Now you," —Kitty waved the wooden spoon at Jackie— "you continue to write him, you hear? My baby boy there all alone and none of his _friends_ seem to remember that it's _his_ parents' house they're traipsing in and out of."

"Yes, Mrs. Forman."

After that, Jackie found herself swinging by the Forman household like she used to, only the main reason for her visits was to sit and chat with Kitty. She scheduled her visits around the rest of the gang's, and took great pains to avoid coming over when she knew that Steven or Sam would be there.

Jackie was filled with a desire to simply _talk_ about Eric, which was hardly surprising seeing that he was the only good thing she had going in her life right now, and Kitty could go on and on about him without wondering in the least about Jackie's sudden interest in her son.


	6. Chapter 6

_Dear Eric,_

 _Did your kids like the flavor of Blow Pops that I sent? They were new at Fez's favorite candy place and I couldn't resist buying another box on top of the assorted ones that I usually get._

 _I was at your house the other day and I saw your mom packing Twonkies in her box to you so, ta-dah! You'll find two boxes of_ Twinkies _together with my letter today. :)_

 _Christine said I was 'severely inexperienced' and 'overwhelmingly under-qualified' at work today. Hmph. What does she know. Talent makes up for everything, and I have oodles of_ that _._

Jackie chewed on her pen. The next bit was hard for her to write, as it was hard for her to come to terms with, but the trials of the past months have mellowed her somewhat, and she came to realize that it was simply easier to accept certain things than it was to rage fruitlessly against them.

 _—Donna and Sam seem to be getting along really well. In a way, I'm happy for her, it seems she and Sam do have some things in common, unlike, you know, me and her—_

 _—It used to hurt, a lot, but I suppose I've sort of given up on holding on to something that doesn't want to hold on to me. And I'm so tired of having to fight for it all the time—_

 _If you need anything else, just let me know and I'll be sure to include it in my next shipment to you._

 _Reply ASAP!_

 _Yours,_

 _Jackie_

She signed off with a little heart above the 'i', and danced off to find stamps and an envelope to put her letter in.

* * *

The phone rang a few days later on a Sunday at the apartment she shared with Fez. Jackie was enjoying the quietness of the afternoon, alone by herself and humming happily as she packed another special Jackie Box to send to Eric when the post office opened the next day.

She headed to the living room to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" she sang out.

"Hey you," came an unfamiliar male voice.

She frowned. "Who's thi-. Omigod, _Eric_?"

He chuckled. "Who else?"

"Eric! Gosh I could hardly recognize your voice! What're you doing calling here? How did you get my number?"

"Jackie, it's written over every face of the Jackie Boxes that you have sent me so far, along with your return address." He continued wryly, "I'm sure that the boxes will find their way back to you even if they do get mistakenly posted to a frozen tundra in Antarctica."

She chortled.

"I'm so glad you called. We've only written so far you know. It feels so different to finally be talking to you." She smiled and added, "I'm packing my latest Jackie Box for you now. You'll probably get it in, oh, a few days."

"Looking forward to it."

She carried the phone back to her room with her, leaving the long line trailing behind her.

"Anyways, I was over at your mom's the other day and she wanted to know if the reason you haven't been writing is because of Donna and you know," —she cleared her throat— " _Randy_. I wrote you to ask in the letter I sent a couple of days ago. Not sure if you've gotten that yet though."

She heard him sigh and imagined that he was probably scuffing up the back of his hair now.

"Yeah, that's one of the reasons that I called actually."

"Huh. Sounds serious." She scooted back against her pillows and made herself comfortable.

"Nah, it isn't really. Donna and I are over, so you don't have to skate around the issue in your letters. I'm not upset, so don't worry. Yep."

"That's it? You called me long distance just to tell me that? What're your other reasons?"

He laughed. "That, and… I just wanted to hear your voice."

"Really?" Jackie laughed, baffled, and down the line, Eric smiled at the sound. "That's the first time anyone has ever said that to me."

"A first for everything, Jackie. How're things at the studio? Dragon lady still giving you a hard time?"

"The worst." She stared out of her window for a moment. "It's better now though, not that Christine's any better, just that, because, now I have you. It helps, Eric." She continued in a low voice, "Especially with Steven and all."

"It will get better, Jackie."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Well then, you have me. I'm here for you."

She smiled, a fluffy warmth filling her entire body. She knew it was silly to ask it of him, but she couldn't help herself, "Promise?"

Without hesitation he replied, "I promise."


	7. Chapter 7

"But Yackie, c'mon, we haven't seen you in weeks!" Fez pleaded.

"No, Fez. Look, it's too hard for me to be around Steven and _her,_ alright?" She turned back to her closet to pull out a knee-length black pencil skirt. Holding it to her body, she asked, "What about this one?"

"Uh okay, but it goes better with this top." Fez held up the turquoise silk blouse that she had tossed on the bed earlier. Jackie looked at the top and smiled.

"You're right," she agreed and hung them both up for work tomorrow before turning to clear up the mess of clothes littered on her bed.

"It's only to The Hub, just to hang out. We're your _friends_ ," he whined. He saw her open her mouth to protest and threw her a dirty look. He held up a hand. "No, don't say it, Fez doesn't want to hear it."

Jackie shrugged and picked up a skirt that had fallen on the floor.

"Donna and Randy will be there too. Come onnnnnn." He started ticking off his fingers. "You go to work. You come home. You either sit at your desk or sit by the phone. You don't shop. You have no friends." He looked at her and then burst out, enunciating each word, "You have no life!"

Jackie rolled her eyes, her patience stretched thin. "Fezzie, give it up already."

He put both hands on his hips and shook his head agitatedly. "No no no. First Eric. Then Kelso. Yackie, you have no excuse, you're still in Point Place. Now let's go." He tugged on her arm and literally frog-marched her out of their apartment.

And so it was that Jackie found herself sitting at their usual table at The Hub an hour later, with a ferocious scowl on her face and shooting Fez looks that promised a violent death every other second.

She had been avoiding Donna and Steven for weeks. And if she did get a chance to meet them, she kept their interaction to a minimum and was usually out of there before any more than a few words could be exchanged. It was a situation that worked for her, it helped her ignore the pain in her heart till it was no more than an ever-present dull ache, and if she couldn't see Sam, she could pretend that Sam didn't exist, which more than made her happy, because thinking about Sam and Steven _together,_ was just too much for her to bear.

And she knew they were having sex, of course she knew. Fez wouldn't shut up about the "lucky bastard" who was always "having hot stripper sex", and when Kitty had told her about the fights Sam and Steven had been having to "spice things up in the bedroom", Jackie found herself backsliding in whatever little progress she had made in moving on with her life and cried for days in her bedroom after.

She was pulled back from her thoughts when she heard Eric's name.

"So this Eric guy was, like, your first boyfriend ever, huh?" Randy was asking Donna. He looked slightly apprehensive. "Big shoes to fill in then."

The table burst out laughing. Jackie frowned, annoyed. She shot a glare around the table and stabbed the fry she was eating halfway at Randy. "Yeah, he was her first love, and you know what they say about first loves," she trailed off, popping the fry in her mouth.

Donna raised an eyebrow at her. "Yeah, _'was'_ being the operative word here."

Sam, snuggled into Hyde's side, piped up, "Isn't he that scrawny guy with the mop of hair that Kitty has pictures of all around the house?"

"Yeah, that's Forman alright."

Sam snickered. "Oh Donna, you can do so much better."

"Oh Steven, you can do so much better." The words were out of her mouth before Jackie could hold them back. She saw the look on Steven's face and she shriveled a little, before stiffening her spine to meet him head on. To her surprise, he didn't say a word, instead it was Sam who retaliated.

Her eyes raked Jackie's petite form before she pressed her fake rack into Hyde's arm and sniffed, "He _did_ do better; he found himself a real woman in bed."

Hyde smirked.

Anger flashed hot and white through Jackie. "At least I don't take my clothes off for money," she hissed at Sam.

Hyde blew out a disgusted sigh. "Jackie, come on. We all know that the only reason you have a job in the first place is because you're a talentless, manipulative broad who would screw over her own grandmother to get what she wants. Case in point: passin' off Mrs. Forman's brownies as yours on live TV." He wiped his hands on a napkin. "Or," —he took a long drink of his soda— "screwin' Kelso in Chicago to get him to propose to you."

He stood up and threw the soiled napkin on the table. "C'mon, Sam. Let's go. I need a beer." He nodded to Donna, Randy and Fez, ignoring Jackie. "Later, guys."

The door slammed shut behind them.

Jackie felt as if she had been punched in the gut. She felt Fez's hand squeeze hers under the table as she battled to control her emotions. She turned as Donna spoke to her.

"Jackie, look. You've got to learn to get along with Samantha. She's with Hyde now, and I think she's really good for him."

Jackie looked at her best friend of so many years, before Sam came in to the picture and stole her away.

"I see," she said. But she didn't really see at all.


	8. Chapter 8

It had taken Eric five days after Ethiopia to pack up his bags and leave the sponsorship village that he had spent the first three months at since arriving in Africa.

After that, he had travelled south, with no known destination in mind. The need to keep on moving had been strong, and he could barely distinguish one day from the next as they melted into one another. His eyes had taken on a haunted cast, and he moved like a man hunted, existing in some kind of a limbo.

He had stumbled upon the village quite by chance. It was the smell that caught his attention at first. The air had been clean that day, fresh and wet from the rains that had swept through the fields in the early morning light. It brought out the scent of the sugarcane: sweet, musty and sticky. Eric was reminded him of a happier time, untroubled and free, a time from _before_. He was drawn to it, like a thirsting man to a desert oasis. And when he stood amongst them — tall, golden shoots, towering over him; a mild semblance of peace filled him, and a sliver of light broke through the heavy shroud of gloom that had been his day and night for weeks.

He approached the village from the direction of the fields, running a callused palm along the pole-like stems and feeing them give a little at his touch. A good crop, he thought, and he could tell that they would be ripe for harvesting soon. He soon heard the sounds of a busy village and followed the chatter of voices, coming to the center of the village where preparation for the midday meal was underway.

If the villagers were surprised to find a travel-stained, weary looking foreigner with a three-week-old beard appear suddenly in their midst, they gave no sign of it as they welcomed and generously invited him to partake in their simple fare.

It had taken him a while, but eventually he managed to get an approval to continue his teaching program there, and worked out the kinks in logistics and managed to get his post and communication equipment forwarded there. Eric couldn't manage to outrun the hounds of hell that had been shadowing him since Ethiopia, but he could at least find a shaky sort of peace among the people there, and he clung on to it, desperate to hold on to the shreds of what he feared were left of his sanity.

And that had been when he had received his first letter from Jackie.


	9. Chapter 9

It was one of those rare days with perfect weather when Kitty pushed open the door to Eric's room and clapped her hands authoritatively.

"So! Kids, here we are!" She hustled them all into his room and looked around, gesturing for Hyde and Red to drop the empty boxes they were carrying. "Now, I want my sewing table by the window so we've got to clear out this half of the room."

She bustled her way over to the left of the room and started picking things up. Red followed her and stood over the heavy yellow armchair near the left of the bed. He motioned for Hyde to come over.

"Here, now, Steven. Lift." Hyde went and bent to lift the other end. They carried it between them and shuffled out of the room.

Jackie stood aside to let them pass, but was strangely reluctant to move in any further from where she was standing just by the bedroom door. It felt wrong somehow. A gross invasion of his privacy. She didn't want to be cleaning out his room. It felt like they were writing him out of their lives, and _she_ most definitely wasn't. He was very real and vital to her.

"Donna. Jackie," Kitty called over her shoulder, "move these things into the boxes." She pulled the cord of Eric's old lava lamp out of the socket and wound it around the base. It went into a box with a clang. Dusting her hands on her skirt, she turned her head from side to side, deciding how to proceed.

"This one goes here," she muttered as she dropped random objects into their respective boxes, "and that one… there…" _Clang clang_. She straightened up and shook her hair back, a crease appearing between her brows as she registered their inactivity. " _Now_ would be good time to start."

"'Kay, Mrs. Forman," Donna said and moved over to help.

Kitty abandoned the window area and walked distractedly over to the shelves above Eric's bed where all his action figures stood. She picked an empty box from the floor and settled it on his bed, looking up at the neatly lined figures above. The shelves were a little high and she had to tiptoe to take one down.

"Hmmm, I've always wondered," she said and turned it around in her hand. She took a surreptitious glance about her before she pulled G.I. Joe's camo-print cargo pants down in one quick jerk. "Oooh, ah-hahaha. Now I know!" she cackled.

"Mrs. Forman!" Donna said in shocked amusement from where she was standing by the window. She noticed Jackie looking at the shelves of the cupboard by the door and tilted her head towards her. "Jackie, come on."

Jackie nodded and walked over to her slowly. She saw Kitty putting Eric's figures neatly in the box and stopped when Kitty's fingers closed over the Luke Skywalker figurine. Jackie hesitated, then put her hand on Kitty's arm and reached to take Luke Skywalker from her.

"Mrs. Forman, wait," she said. "Maybe we should leave those."

Red chose that moment to walk in. He saw Kitty waver and stomped over loudly.

"No, _no,_ Kitty. Put them away. I've wanted to get rid of Eric's dolls for years." He grabbed Luke Skywalker from Jackie's hand and threw it into the box. "And now's as good a time as any."

He picked the box up and brought it to the edge of the shelf, and with one arm, swept the entire row of Eric's figures into the box. "There now, see? You've more space for your other sewing… things."

He brightened as Randy walked into the room with a tool belt around his hips.

"Randy! Kitty, Randy's here. He'll be building you the sewing table with that little cup holder, just like you wanted."

He held onto his wife's shoulders and directed her attention towards the window. "Tell him where you want it, and hey! In a few days' time, you'll be sitting up here happily sewing."

Suitably distracted, Kitty forgot about Eric's toys and walked over to Donna and Randy instead, fluttering excitedly as she gave him exact instructions for her would-be sewing table.

Red turned to Jackie and shoved the box in her arms. "Here, go put it in the garage somewhere. We'll sell the lot the next time Kitty decides to have a garage sale."

She couldn't look away from the happy expression on his face as he thrust her the box, nor ignore how he seemed to glow as Randy stuck his stupid measuring tape this way and that in accordance to Mrs. Forman's enthusiastic directions.

She bowed her head and her heart was heavy as she bent to do what he instructed.

* * *

Night had fallen and the sky outside had turned dark before Jackie returned to the Forman household. She pushed the slider open to find the kitchen empty, then headed through the door to the living room.

Red and Kitty were watching television. Jackie froze, but they barely turned to acknowledge her greeting.

"Um, I left something in Eric's room this afternoon, can I go upstairs to get it?"

Red grunted and Kitty fluttered a hand at her in reply. Their gazes remained glued to the screen.

Jackie hid a relieved smile and made for the stairs. When she reached Eric's room, she shut his door and set her load down. Slowly, carefully, she reached into the box and took the items out one by one.

She began arranging his action figures on the shelf above his bed — exactly as he had left them.


	10. Chapter 10

The nightmare woke him at night.

Eric lurched awake gasping for air, eyes wild, drenched in sweat. It took him a moment to place where he was and he struggled to breathe. Sucked in deep calming breaths and fought to reclaim control.

 _In. Out. In. Out._

He forced his heart rate to slow, his breathing to even out, and clamped down tightly on the dark suffocating pit of guilt, of impotence, of rage and fury and loathing that the nightmare reawakened in him; that would have slowly choked the life out of him and was robbing him of his mind.

 _In. Out. In. Out._

Control.

Eric's breaths evened out, and his heart rate slowed. The madness left his eyes and he got up and walked to a series of shelves on one of the walls. He reached into a cardboard box, worn from much use, and pulled out rolling paper and a heap of the pungent cured leaves favored by the locals.

The aromatic smell of burning tobacco soon filled the air.

It was twenty minutes later that he accepted that he wasn't going to be able to get any more sleep. He moved mechanically, with motions seared into him by routine; shoving his feet into track shoes and headed out the door, where he broke into a practiced run, paying no heed to the light drizzle, nor the slight bite in the chilly night air.

* * *

Eric looked down at the box in his hands. It had been a good day.

His class had really learnt something today. And he had managed three days of dreamless sleep before the nightmare woke him on the fourth night. Mail had come today, and he had received another Jackie Box.

All in all, a good day.

He opened it in the privacy of his hut, and smiled at the three pictures she had sent him of her. They were clipped together with a yellow note with the word 'Choose!' scribbled on it. She wanted his opinion on an outfit for a big day at work the following week.

She had also put together a notebook filled with newspaper clippings and headlines. Very thoughtful of her, since he was cut off from the world. He pulled out a small box of something else with a note taped to the outside.

 _Camomile tea bags._ She had written. _Cos I get the feeling that you've a lot on your mind. Drink up and relax!_

He ran a finger gently over her smiling face in all three pictures, struck by her vivid beauty. As he had written her before, she featured a great deal in his thoughts of late. A rose among the ugly thorns that was who he was inside now.

She was… Pure. Good. Light.

And she made him remember what it was like to smile.


	11. Chapter 11

_Dear Jackie,_

 _It's the middle of the monsoon season here now, so we're getting a bit more rain than usual. That also means that it isn't so hot out, and that's always a big welcome._

 _Anyway, I've no idea where you get your facts, but the Sahara Desert does_ not _cover the whole of Africa. I'm further south of the desert, so the vial of sand you requested to put a voodoo hex on Hyde and 'Stripper Wife' came from my backyard. I'm sure it'll be as effective as actual sand from the Sahara (though you might have to tweak your spell a little)._

 _Good luck._

 _Always,_

 _Eric_

* * *

Jackie woke up in the morning with a sense of purpose. Certain that _today_ things would start to go uphill for her. She took care in dressing for work, fussing about with her hair and makeup more than usual.

Christine St. George had loved her idea to tape one of the segments outdoors. "A Midsummer Special", as Jackie had proposed, and Jackie was looking forward to going to work for once.

She arrived to find the studio in a huge disarray. Papers everywhere, people everywhere, no order anywhere. Christine St. George was standing by the set, and her face was a scary shade of red. She was yelling at someone on her phone, and Jackie knew from hard earned experience not to be within twenty feet of her when she was in such a mood. She caught the arm of a frenzied-looking production assistant and pulled her aside.

"What's going on, Michelle?"

"Shit, Jackie, didn't you hear? The network cancelled Christine's show. We just got word thirty minutes ago."

Jackie was dumbstruck. _Cancelled?_

"Oh my God. They pulled us? But why? Ratings were going up!"

"Yeah, but not fast enough. And Christine has pissed off a lot of people in her career, and the word around is that she pissed off the wrong someone." Michelle stopped and gave Jackie a pointed look. "But you didn't hear that from me."

With a sympathetic smile, she turned and hurried off.

 _Cancelled._ Suddenly unable to take the noise and chaos around her, she wandered down the corridors of the studio in a dull daze and soon found herself on the sidewalk outside.

As if the fates had decreed it so, the weather outside, too, matched her mood. Chilly and windy; unusual for that time of the year. Her boots clacked down the pavement as she walked with no real destination in mind.

She looked around and noticed people going about their daily lives, and she wondered if they were really as cheery as they appeared to be. If they were, then why did life just seem hell-bent on tossing yet another hurdle in _her_ path?

Strands of hair whipped across her face and she ignored it. She walked and walked till she saw the sign for the local bar and pushed the doors open to walk right in. Seating herself at the bar, she waved to get the bartender's attention. He walked over.

"What'll it be, lady?"

"Tequila."

It flew out of her mouth before she even realized it. When she realized how similar her actions were to her mother's, she grimaced and instantly felt sick.

It was then that she opened her purse and counted out her money. She realized that she had no business spending money on useless alcohol, which depressed her even further and she hopped off the barstool and walked right out of the bar without even an apologetic look in the bartender's direction.

Numb to the cold and wind, her heels tapped out a rhythmic clack on the concrete. She hunched over and tucked her gloveless hands underneath her arms. _Cancelled cancelled cancelled._ It played over like a mantra in her head, in time to her footsteps. _Cancelled clack cancelled clack._ Another disappointment to swallow. Another failure, another notch.

 _What am I going to do?_

She saw it at that moment. Right before the turn on the street. Old and dirty-looking, but at that time it seemed like the answer to everything. She walked into the phone booth, fished out enough coins and dialed a familiar number.

Eric answered on the third ring.

An immediate warmth filled her. "Hey," she whispered.

After Eric's first phone call to her, they had both found themselves craving the more immediate and personal interaction that a phone call offered.

"Jackie?" She heard him move a couple of things around in the background. "Hey, what's up? You sound upset."

She smiled despite herself. All this and she had only spoken one word. Had he always been so perceptive? She didn't remember him being so with Donna.

"I lost my job today," she said quietly.

Eric could tell that she was struggling to hold back tears. He wished he could hold her right now. "How?" he asked simply.

She told him. It all came out in a barrage of fear and frustration and she ended asking helplessly, "What am I gonna do, Eric?"

There was a long pause, as if he was thinking, and then he asked, "Jackie, have you tried applying to colleges?"

She snorted, and he smiled. But there was a hint of self-deprecation in the sound that Eric picked up in a flash. She continued before he could protest.

"They won't want me. I'm 'under qualified' remember," she paused a moment before she added lightly, "people think so."

"I'm not one of them."

She sighed. "I am. According to my boss. Or _ex-_ boss now."

He sensed something else and pressed further. "Who else?"

A long pause. "Steven said something similar the other day."

"I disagree. With both of them," Eric said forcefully. "And I would have called Hyde out on it had I been there when he said whatever he said."

Jackie giggled, feeling a lot better. "Thank you, Eric." She watched as a laughing couple passed her by, wondering if she would ever be so carefree again. "You know, even if I did manage to get accepted, I still wouldn't be able to pay for it."

"What about the money that Grandma Burkhart left for you?"

"Grandma Burkhart? Nah, not her. She hates me. Thinks that I'm my mother's evil spawn or something. It's Grandma Eleanor, Eric."

"Ah. Okay. Grandma Eleanor then. Can't you use that?"

She leaned against the side of the phone booth and crossed her booted feet. "No…It's my last resort, remember? Emergencies only."

"Jackie, I would say this pretty much qualifies as last resort."

The line was silent for a long moment, then Jackie blew out a breath. "Eric, do you really think that… You know, I just…" She took a deep breath. "Eric, if this doesn't work out…" She trailed off and stared at the cars driving past her on the street. "I mean, if it doesn't… I really can't take another disappointment in my life right now."

She sounded so small and wan and it physically hurt him to know that she was facing all this on her own.

"It'll work out. You'll see. And I really think that you can do this." His voice was filled with assurance and sincerity and Jackie was touched with the amount of faith he had in her.

"I'm afraid."

"Don't be." There was a silence, and then she heard, "Come to Africa, Jackie. Just for a little while."

For a moment, her heart stopped. Then, when she registered the seriousness of his tone, it skipped another beat and she was stunned by the realization that she was a hair's breadth away from saying 'yes'.

 _Don't be crazy, Jackie._

Reality crashed through and shaking off the temporary insanity, she forced a lightness that she did not feel into her words. "That's crazy. There's no way our friends will take that well." And they both knew which two friends in particular she was referring to.

Eric kept silent, and she was suddenly afraid. She tried to mask it with a lame attempt at humor. "Besides, you and me alone in Africa? You know what we were like before — we'll kill this new friendship thing that we've got going here." She forced out a laugh, but it came out sounding flat. There was a pause as the gravity of what she just said struck her, and then she continued in an undertone. "Eric, I really can't bear it if it did."

At her later words, Eric felt his mood lift slightly. "It won't, Jackie. I won't let it."

Jackie let out a breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding, reassured by the conviction in his words. "You don't know how much that means. To hear you say it," she said softly. She gripped the phone tighter in her hand. "You're like the only constant I have in my life right now," she said, struggling to find the right words to convey the depth of her feelings. "I feel like… A lone ship in a stormy sea. And you and your friendship are the only things that are keeping me from becoming lost or capsizing."

"Jackie, you know that I'm here for you, right?"

She smiled, and quoted how he invariably signed off in his letters to her. "Always?"

His voice was deep with feeling as he replied, "Always."


	12. Chapter 12

Jackie came home smelling like creek water and trudged into the bathroom. Her hair was stringy and damp and matted together in clumps. Her clothes were ruined. Ruined! She was dirty and smelly and gross but worst of all was that she couldn't believe that Steven had let her fall into the creek and then laughed. The only good thing that she could see in the disaster that was the evening was the fact that Sam hadn't been around to witness her humiliation. That, and the fact that she was pretty sure that she had managed to keep Donna and Randy from doing whatever it was that they had been intent on doing when they insisted that they had wanted to be paired together on the pointless hunt for Kitty's ring in the woods.

She knew that Eric and Donna had broken up, but she still couldn't just stand by and see Donna move on so quickly; her loyalty to Eric dictated that. And _especially_ when she was now almost absolutely certain that something was up with Eric.

She frowned, squeezing water out of her disgusting hair. It wasn't anything he said for sure, but it was more of the things that he _didn't_ say, and she had a sinking feeling that something was off with her only friend.

Sure, she supposed Fez can be vaguely included in the category of _friend,_ she thought guiltily, after all she did live with him, but she didn't really talk to him like she talked to Eric. He was too close to Steven and Donna, and besides, he was easily distracted and his life was more or less dictated by whatever candy he had or whatever needs he had to take care of at a given moment.

Stepping into the shower, she let her thoughts drift to Eric. They had spoken on the phone earlier in the evening before she had left for the carnival, and he had been deliberately evasive. Particularly obvious since she had expressly asked him if there was anything notably life-changing about his experiences in Africa, because she was almost definitely sure that there was. His reply had been to skate around her question, talking instead about Masego, his favorite student, and how he was trying to persuade some of the families from a neighboring village to allow their children to school with him.

If there was one thing that Jackie learnt from her two years with Steven, it was that there was a time to press the issue and there was a time to let it drop. She decided that that was a time to let it slide, and so she listened to him talk, and found that she really liked hearing him talk. And when he did, the pictures he painted in her mind were vivid and real and it was almost like she was right there with him.

Her fingers snagged in her hair and she plucked out a twig, and Eric faded as thoughts of Steven once again featured front and centre.

He had called her a bitch. A bitch! It was bad enough when he stood by and watched Sam call her that, but to say it himself… She angrily swiped at the tears that leaked from the corners of her eyes, upset that she was crying over him yet again.

She recalled the time where he would punch the lights out of someone just for using the word on her and she ached so badly she had to sit down in the tub to catch her breath. She searched through her memory of tonight to see if she had done anything to offend him that would justify his use of the term and she drew a blank. Truth was, she had been deathly afraid for him. He was drunk most of the time these days, and seeing him drink like that was slowly killing her. She worried about him.

She let the water rain down on her till it turned cold, cold like she was on the inside. She viciously scrubbed at her skin one last time and stepped out of the shower. As she wound a towel around her form, Eric floated back into her thoughts. She worried about him too. He seemed different. Darker, grimmer somehow, and she had no idea why.

 _Oh Eric. What is up with you?_

* * *

 _Dear Eric,_

 _I got my first paycheck from my new job at Fez's salon today, so I went to the mall. I wanted to buy something new and pretty for me, but somehow ended up at the bookstore where_ these _caught my eye._

 _Ta-DAH! Colored chalk! For you! To use in your classroom, obviously. You do have a blackboard don't you? You never said. But anyways, I bought you three boxes in three different colors so you can add some fun and pretty up your lessons there. Tell your kids 'You're Welcome' for me, won't you?_

 _Yours,_

 _Jackie_

 _P.S. Please say you have a blackboard._

* * *

Sunday afternoons were much like any afternoon in the village, but to Eric, it was the one day that he declared No School, so he was free to spend it at his leisure.

He was wandering the village early in the afternoon, when he stumbled upon a man with bushy white eyebrows and a pipe stuck in the corner of his mouth. Several beautiful wooden figurines sat on the table in front of him and he was busy at work with another in his hands. Eric stood and observed him for several quiet minutes before the man finally noticed him and looked up with a smile.

Eric raised a hand in greeting and offered him a smile in return. "Jambo." _Hello._

"Jambo. Ah know you. You are dat teacher. Meester Air-reek."

He had kind eyes with deep crinkles in the corners, and Eric liked him on sight.

Eric nodded amicably. "Are you whittling?" He indicated the object in the man's hands and mimed scraping with a knife.

The man grinned and nodded, exposing a missing front tooth. "Eet's a hob-bee. You try eet. Calms da mind." He offered a knife to Eric, hilt first.

Eric took it and ran his thumb lightly across the blade. "I'm not sure," he said uncertainly. "I, uh, haven't really done this before. How do I start?"

The man handed Eric some wood and gestured for him to sit down next to him.

"Yer knife wee-l shape wad-evah yer heart tells it to." He patted his chest above his own heart. "So jus let yer hands do da wer-k and be careful not to cut yerself."

Eric looked at the block of wood in his hand.

"Oo-kay," he muttered. "Whatever my heart tells me. Yeah."

The first cut he made he did because he wanted to get the ball rolling. The second and third soon followed and Eric fell into it, the rhythmic sound of a knife scraping against the wood the only thing that was heard between the both of them for the next few hours.

When the sun began to cast long shadows on the ground, Eric sat up and stretched. His shoulders were stiff and the muscles in his neck strained as he cracked it from side to side. He looked at the crude shape he had spent the entire afternoon whittling. It was far from a masterpiece and not quite finished, but its form was unmistakable.

"Huh."

The old man looked up and saw the figure in Eric's hand. "Ahh, Mees-ter Air-reek. I see you have horses in yer heart." He reached across and indicated the bit on its forehead. "But. You have missed something here."

Eric smiled and shook his head. "No, I don't think I did."

He fingered the crudely fashioned object in his hand. Then held it up to the man.

"It isn't a horse." Eric touched the bit on the forehead with the pad of his thumb. When he looked at the man, his eyes were a clear green and soft with some emotion.

"It's a unicorn."


	13. Chapter 13

"Omigod, _Jackie Burkhart_?"

Jackie looked up from the pile of hair she was sweeping up, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she recognized the nasal tones of Kat Peterson, skank extraordinaire and one of the long line of girls to have been in Steven's bed. Kat had never really gotten over Steven being off the market and being notoriously monogamous when he was with Jackie, and Jackie had hated her guts for knowing Steven as intimately as she did.

She squared her shoulders and pasted a fake smile on her face. "Kat."

Kat let out a trilling laugh and Jackie winced. She looked gleefully at the broomstick in Jackie's hands and said with relish, "My, my. Look at you."

"You know," she continued, tapping her chin, "Mother's looking for a maid in the household staff. I think you'd be perfect for the job."

Jackie's hands tightened around the broom handle and she gritted her teeth.

"Hmmm well it's such a shame too. Seeing how Hyde's really moved up in life and all." She smirked, "You must have been terrible in bed. I mean," —she flicked her hair and gave another shrill laugh— "You're far too innocent-"

Jackie took a deep breath and started counting in her head. _One two three... You need this job... Five six..._

"—No wonder he dumped you for a stripper." She drummed her fingers on the counter and gave an evil sneer. "Hyde has always liked it, hmmm, how do I put this delicately… _Dirty_." She shrugged, giving Jackie a disdainful look. "And _you_ , well, you're too much of a prude to satisfy a man like-"

Jackie lost it. Eyes blazing fire, she swung her broom and pitched the pile of hair on the ground at Kat's shiny blonde head. _God, she freaking hated blondes. Sam. Kat. That stupid biker chick. Laurie and ugh,_ Donna _. They were all out to get her._

Kat let out an ear-splitting scream. And screamed and screamed. Jackie would have laughed if she hadn't seen the thunderous expression on her boss's face as she hurried toward her.

"I'm wearing _velvet_ you dumb bitch!" Kat shrieked.

"Miss Peterson! Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! Jackie's new, here let me try to get it off you."

"Ai. Ai! Yackie! What have you done!"

As it turned out, Kat happened to be a VIP customer at the salon, and both her boss and Fez were horrified that Jackie had treated her with such disrespect. She would have gotten fired if not for Fez, good old Fez, who was the salon's darling and a favorite with the customers, who had stepped in and stood up for her. She was made to grovel and apologize to Kat and it had made her taste bile to do so.

In all, it was a freaking disgusting day and Jackie got off work in abject misery, and decided to head to the mall to cheer herself up. As usual, she walked straight to the jewelry store, admiring the elaborate set up in the display windows.

She scanned the glittering pieces on display till she spotted it: a beautiful princess-cut solitaire that she had long since claimed as _hers_. It was the ring she had pointed out many times to Steven on the rare occasion that she managed to drag him to the mall on the once-a-month quota that he had set for her. It winked up at her prettily from where it nestled between a pair of matching earrings and a gorgeous bracelet. She wanted the entire set of course, but for Steven she was willing to settle for just the ring itself.

For Steven, she didn't even have to have _this_ beautiful ring.

For him, she would have screamed a 'Yes!' to the tab off a can of soda.

She saw a hand reach in and take the accompanying earrings out from the case by the window and stared after it wistfully, silently envying the lucky girl that would be on the receiving end of such a lovely gift.

Unable to help herself, Jackie found herself walking around to enter the store, blindly following the path of the earrings that she had so wanted for herself.

It felt like someone dumped a bucket of ice water when she saw the stripper-red nails of Samantha Hyde reach out to put _her_ earrings on her skanky lobes. She stood unable to move as an icy numbness spread to her fingers and toes.

"Hyde, baby. These are beautiful," Sam cooed. "You've great taste, baby."

Steven was seated beside her at the counter, arms crossed and legs stretched out before him. He grunted.

Jackie was finding it difficult to breathe. He chose them for Sam? He was buying his wife _her_ earrings? _But why not?_ A voice argued. _She's his wife._

Her stomach clenched. Finding it hard to see as her vision blurred, Jackie turned quickly and walked out the store before any of them could see her. Unable to stop the flow of tears now, she half ran until she found a pillar the she could hide and cry behind. The entire situation reminded her eerily of the Packers game she had attended with the gang a year ago, only then, she still had Donna to come running after her and she had known that Steven still loved her. Today, she was crying behind a pillar again, and this time she knew no one would be running after her and the one man that she loved with all her heart no longer loved her.

Sucking in huge breaths of air, she struggled for composure. Once she got it, she wrapped it around her like a cloak and stepped out from behind the pillar and promptly bumped into a couple that were walking in the opposite direction. She looked from their clasped hands slowly up to their faces to mumble a quick apology when she heard the woman yelp.

"Baby, look! It's Jackie!"

Something inside of her withered and died. She struggled to force a small smile to her lips.

"Hey." She greeted them quietly, avoiding Steven's eyes.

She turned to leave but Sam grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip.

"Wait! Look what Hyde bought me!" She tossed her blonde head this way and that and Jackie dutifully ooh-ed and ahh-ed.

"They're beautiful, Sam. Steven's got great taste," she said hollowly. What was it about this girl that motivated Steven to do things for that he never did for Jackie? "I've really got to go."

"Let me give you a lift home."

Jackie was suitably stunned enough at his offer to finally meet his eyes. She found him studying her through his shades.

Sam's mouth dropped open. "But, Hyde!"

He ignored his wife, and continued to look at Jackie. "It's gonna rain." There was an infinitesimal pause, "And I know you sold your car."

She didn't know what he was up to. But being stuck in the car with the love of her life and his wife seemed like a new form of torture that he had summoned up just for her.

Jackie vehemently shook her head. She would rather eat glass.

"No."

"Jackie…"

"No. I'm good walking. It's not far."

Hyde looked at her closely then gave a shrug. "Fine. Whatever."

He grabbed Sam's hand and they went their separate ways.

However twenty minutes later, when the skies above Wisconsin opened and water poured forth, he found himself alone in the El Camino and trailing a distance behind the slight figure of his ex-girlfriend. She was soaked through, like he predicted, and even though he could have driven up to her and yelled at her to get in the damn car, he felt that things between them had soured to the extent that he preferred to sit in the safety and warmth of his car alone.

He knew she hated storms, so it was saying quite a bit that she chose the former over him. He supposed it was his fault, but by the time he had really found out that she didn't betray him by sleeping with Kelso, things had already gotten to the point where they couldn't be fixed.

When she had left him for that job of hers, the amount of pain that he had felt at her betrayal had been staggering. But unwilling to even contemplate a future without her in it, he had doggedly gone after her in Chicago, willing to do just about anything to make her see that her rightful place was by his side.

He had felt stifled by it of course, but the price to pay for having her in his life, though steep, was justified. He just couldn't live w _ithout_ her. And so, he had gone to Chicago, just like she had wanted him to. When he got there and found her with Kelso, it had ripped his heart out and torn it to shreds. He had been brought to his knees and he had vowed that nothing and no one would ever have that kind of power over him ever again.

He didn't stop to think that Jackie could have been blameless. He didn't stop to consider talking things out with her. His survival instincts kicked in, and if there was one thing that life had taught him so far, it was that pride was the only thing that kept you going.

Pride would keep your head up, stiffen your spine, and soldier you on to continue living. And so he sped out of that dreary motel and somehow found himself in Las Vegas. He had no memory of what he did there in the City of Lights. It all existed to him in a haze of booze and drugs. And women. Whatever he could get his hands on to forget Jackie. To numb himself to the pain of her treachery.

By the time he had finally found it in him to drive back to Wisconsin, he had re-built his wall of zen and reinforced it several times to shield himself from the one woman who had ever really scaled it and claimed his heart as victory. He had re-built it such that his heart would never be claimed again, and the kind of pain that he had felt would never again be experienced for what remained of his life.

Too many people had left him, and he wasn't interested in placing himself in that kind of position again. He had to have the upper hand; look what had happened the one time that he had let someone else have that.

Watching her trudge her way forlornly home tore at his insides. She didn't sleep with Kelso, but he was unwilling to let himself be vulnerable to her by opening up his heart to her again. He was damned if he was with her and he was damned if he wasn't. But by choosing to be without her he could guarantee that he would never be hurt again.

And he needed that guarantee. He valued it. He prized it above all else.

If the situation with Chicago and Sam had been any indication, he had accepted the fact that when it came to Jackie Burkhart, he could never not care. And since he couldn't stop caring about her, he found himself punishing her. Because it was her fault that things had gotten that way, and her fault for making him love her. Her fault for making him fall so low, making him _feel_ and then crushing him under her size 5 boot.

He hated her, but he loved her. It was a complicated situation, but no one ever said that Hyde wasn't a complicated man.


	14. Chapter 14

_Help!_ _Help..._

Eric Forman woke with a start. Moisture covered his brow and his breaths were shallow and labored.

Screams and cries echoed in his ears. Every night now. Every night they haunted him. Dead eyes staring unblinkingly at him. Dead accusing eyes. The eyes of the innocent.

He pulled his sweat-soaked shirt over his head and tossed it aside. The room was dark, and as his eyes adjusted, he pulled himself up to get a glass of water and a smoke. The sound of a clock ticking filled the silence of the room, and a quick glance at the digital display of his watch showed him the time. 3 A.M.. He rubbed his temples with his fingers.

The voices came at him with a vengeance.

 _MURDERERS! Murderer…_

In one violent motion, he flung his glass of water across the room.

* * *

Eight thousand miles away in Point Place, Wisconsin, Jackie Burkhart found herself unable to sleep too. It was 11 P.M. and she was sick with a cold. Already weak and shivering, there was also a mercilessly pounding in the region behind her left eye. She supposed that choosing to take a walk home in the rain wasn't exactly the best of ideas, but she had done so and she was now suffering the consequences. But when she called to ask her boss if she could perhaps take a day off, she had nearly gotten her head bitten off. Her boss had snarled at her and reminded her that she was already on probation because of the Kat Peterson incident, and that she was looking for a reason, _any_ reason to get Jackie off her payroll.

Jackie had never felt so belittled in her life.

She had no money and she desperately needed the job. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Her demeaning job at the salon had seen to one and Steven had seen to the latter. Mentally, she was drained as well, the endless torrent of insults and snide comments on her character, her appearance, her abilities and everything else that defined her as a person that seemed to be coming at her from every direction imaginable, had sent her sense of self-worth spiraling down the toilet.

Her nails were a mess. Her hair was a mess. Lank and lifeless, and no amount of hot rolling seemed to bring any bounce back to it. Her skin, once glowing and radiant, was pale and sallow. _She_ was a mess.

And it wasn't just because she was sick. It had happened over a long period of time. She felt like all the bits that were who she was were coming apart, falling off, piece by piece. She was disappearing, dissipating, disintegrating into a wisp of herself, drowning in a black hole of hopelessness, still stubbornly clinging on to something that had long ago melted away into nothingness.

There used to be a time when Steven would be there with her, with a bowl of chicken noodle soup hot in one hand and the other arm tucked around her. Led Zeppelin would be playing softly in the background and he would be lying in bed with her, to keep her warm. The memory vanished and tears she had sworn she could no longer cry splashed on her lap.

She missed it. She missed it and she wanted it back so much. She took a shuddering breath and swiped at her eyes, reaching into her drawer for a bottle of aspirin.

She twisted the cap open and swallowed two pills. But when she was about to screw the cap back on she found herself staring at the bottle fisted tightly in her hand.

She saw herself shaking out two more and swallowed those too. Then, before she could stop herself, she had shaken out the entire bottle and brought the lot shakily to her mouth.

Tears swimming in her eyes, she tried to swallow them all, and ended up choking violently. A strangled cry tore from the very core of her and she stumbled her way to the toilet to spit them out and curled onto the floor.

Gut-wrenching sobs that rocked her tiny frame filled the room.

* * *

Eric sat unmoving with his head in his hands and stared at the water stain, lost in images that only he could see. When his brain finally registered that the water had dried up, he found himself reaching for a roll of well-fingered papers tied together with string. The sweet clean scent of flowers and sunshine wafted lightly up from them.

 _Jackie._

He clutched them like a lifeline and grabbing a torch, stumbled back to the mattress on the floor, willing himself to focus on the words instead. Gradually, as he lost himself in the feminine loopy hand that he had begun to know as well as his own, the vestiges of his nightmare receded and thirty minutes later, he was fast asleep.

* * *

Jackie sat on the floor next to the toilet with her head on the edge of the tub. She had cried herself out. She rolled over sluggishly and stared up at the ceiling of the bathroom. She was exhausted.

She dragged herself up, back towards the bedroom, reaching for a pretty silver cardboard box. She gently fingered the doodled rainbow on it before pulling the top off. She drew out a stack of letters and held it to her chest for a minute before putting them gently aside on the bed next to her. She reached into the box again and this time her fist closed tightly around a small object, which had arrived in the mail a couple of days ago.

Her breathing evened out as she fell asleep clutching a little wooden unicorn close to her heart.


	15. Chapter 15

"Meester Air-reek!"

Eric looked up from the trench that he was digging inch by shallow inch in the hard ground. The sun was blazing down and rivers of sweat were running down his arms and back. It was a slow progress but he was happy with the amount of work that he had already accomplished in two hours. At this rate, he'll have the low wall he was building up in no time.

He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow, then turned around to see a skinny boy running energetically towards him and calling his name.

"Meester Air-reek! Sir! Teh-le-phone!" The boy pulled up next to him with a wide smile, panting slightly, teeth flashing white against the ebony of his skin.

"Eeet's dat lah-dee, agin."

A grin broke across his sun-bronzed face. "Yeah? Recognized her voice huh, Masego?" Eric stood up, wiping his dirty hands on a tattered rag next to him. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked towards the concrete dwelling in the village that served as his office and housed his telecommunication equipment. "Better not keep her waiting then."

He put on the shirt that he had discarded nearby earlier and walked the short distance towards the outhouse. Entering the small space, he crossed the small room and picked up the hand set. "Jackie?"

"Eric! Oh my God, you won't believe what happened!"

A few thousand miles away, with the phone cord wrapped around her finger, Jackie heard Eric's deep chuckle resonate down the line. _Deep?_ She wondered a little at the thought and realized that she hadn't heard him get all high-pitched and squeaky in quite a while actually.

"Tell me."

She squealed. "I did what you said, and I got accepted in UW's Communications program! I got in late, so I'll be starting in spring. But isn't it great?!"

"Hey that's great! I'm really happy for you. How're you gonna work it out?" Eric reached for the empty crate he stashed nearby and made himself comfortable against the rough wall.

"I'm gonna use Grandma Eleanor's money. It will go to pay for the first year of school at least. And after that, well, we'll see." She sighed. "I'm sure I'll figure something out... I always do," she said uncertainly and then was silent for a beat. "Oh whatever." Another beat. And the eternal optimist that was Jackie Burkhart refused to dwell on the prospect of an uncertain future. "UW, Eric!" she squealed again excitedly.

If someone had told Eric Forman a year ago that he would be sitting in an outhouse somewhere in the vast land of Africa grinning like a happy fool just because _Jackie Burkhart_ was giddy with excitement at an accomplishment in her life, he would have burst an appendix from laughing. But here he was, atop the old crate he dug up from somewhere, just for the sole purpose of sitting on to talk to Jackie, who was at that moment, thousands of miles away.

Her voice floating through the handset washed over him and he closed his eyes. The sound of her voice in his ears was therapeutic, and he craved the proximity that it offered for it helped lift the black cloud that had filled him since that fateful night in Ethiopia.

She told him about the latest happenings back in Point Place. She hesitantly mentioned that Donna and Randy were still seeing each other, gave him little tidbits on Fez's latest candy obsession. And how Kelso came down with Brooke and Betsy for a visit last weekend.

She didn't mention Hyde and Sam and he didn't ask. He knew that she would talk to him about it if she needed to. For now, he was just glad that Hyde hadn't done anything to seriously cause her any further pain. He knew she still loved Hyde of course. But that didn't stop Eric one whit from feeling whatever it was that he felt for her. And it didn't matter anyway. He was here and she was there and eight thousand miles lay between them.

"How did everyone take the news?" he asked her, bringing her attention back to the subject.

"Well, actually, I haven't really said anything to anyone yet. It's the happiest I've been for a while, and you know, I don't quite want to share it with anyone just yet."

"You're sharing it with me," he teased.

"Yeah, but Eric, you're not just anybody. You're… special. And besides I wanted you to know first."

His heart warmed at her words. And a little bit of the ice in his soul melted. "You're special too, Jackie." He paused a moment, and continued more quietly, "To me."

She was quiet too, as she took in his words. Her voice was soft as she answered, "Who would've thought, huh? Us being special friends and all." She let out a musical laugh. "Nerd Boy and the Devil, friends." She expected another low chuckle from him and was puzzled when he was quiet for a while. "Eric? You there?"

"Yeah Jackie, I'm here."

She blew out a breath. "It's so great you know. After everything that's happened. I mean, I'm thankful for the job at the salon with Fez and all, but it really ate away at my self-esteem." A bitter chuckle. "You know, Steven just told me the other day that's pretty much all I'm good for. Being a hair sweeper," she choked a little and Eric could hear the tears in her voice.

"Jackie…," he said softly. "Hey, you know what. Life's dealt you a bad hand so far okay, and I'm proud that you haven't bent an inch." He stared at the ground below him for a moment, and pictured her in his mind. He chose his words carefully, "It's so much harder for a princess who's always lived in a castle to lose it all and rough it out in a village then, say, a village boy to gain a newly discovered daddy Midas complete with his very own record store." He smiled when he heard her laugh in the midst of her sniffles. "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah… I suppose I do."

"I think you're incredible. With everything that has happened, anyone would have thrown up their hands and given up. Yet, here you are. Giving life the finger. And off to UW in spring."

She burst out laughing. 'Yeah… Giving life the finger huh. Nope no, I'd give the hair sweeping job the finger, but… no… not life in itself. Life hasn't always been this bad. I mean, come on, I'm Jackie Burkhart, that's the biggest gift life could have given anyone and I'm it."

Eric laughed, and the sound of it warmed her insides.

"Yep. Looks like you're gonna have the last laugh."

"Looks that way doesn't it." She giggled. "Hey, Eric?"

"Yeah, Jackie?"

"Thanks," she said softly. "I don't know what I would have done without you. You've been a really, really good friend."

He was quiet for a while again at her use of the word. "Yeah, don't worry about it Jackie. I'm-"

"Yeah I know," she interrupted, and he could feel her smile on the other end of the line. "Here for me, right?"

They spoke for a few more minutes before she hung up.

Then he murmured, "Yeah, Jackie. Always."

* * *

"Jambo, Morathi," Eric greeted the old man. He gestured to the elaborately carved table that Morathi was working on. "How's it coming along?"

"Ah, eet is coming along well, Meester Air-reek. Dis Oak ees mag-nificent indeed. Ah thank you for eet. Mah grand-daughter will be vera happy to receive eet at her wed-ding." His eyes crinkled. "Not whittling today, eh?"

Eric shook his head no and made himself comfortable on one of the short stools across from Morathi. His gaze flowed over the intricate scene Morathi was sculpting into the oak that Eric had procured for him.

"It's beautiful," he said softly. "This is very fine work."

The old man let out a scratchy laugh, a result of years of pipe-smoking. "Not as fine as eet used ta be." He held up gnarled and arthritic hands. "These hands be old. Dey don't w-erk as well as dey used tah." He flashed Eric a cheeky grin and added, "But dey do what dey can."

Eric ran his hand along the complex pattern of seemingly unrelated images in the wood. "What're you doing here, Morathi?"

The old man reached into his pocket for a smoke. He came up with rolling paper and small tin box filled with tobacco. Eric watched as he rolled the cigarette and licked the edges to stick them together. He offered it to Eric as always, and Eric took it while he rolled another stick for himself. The sound of a match catching fire, and then a cloud of smoke as Eric took a deep pull and exhaled.

"Dis," Morathi said, as he waved his hand over the half-completed table, "ees mah

life. Ah carve mah stories into da wood, so mah grand-daughter can still hear me when I'm no long-er around." He pulled deep on the cigarette and blew a smoke circle in the air. "Ah've lee-ved a long life. A hard life. And ah seen many things. Eet be a shame not to live some of eet behind."

Eric took another drag and felt the smoke burn its way down. The stuff that the Africans smoked was strong. Unfiltered and rough, just like the land they lived in. He exhaled and thought about the events that led him to start the habit in the first place; troubling thoughts that had no business in this man's house.

Eric had gotten close to Morathi over the course of the past few weeks. He liked the old man immensely, and appreciated his wit and wisdom. Morathi had few friends, having outlived most of them even though he was only in his sixties. Life expectancy in the rural villages was low, and they had learnt to appreciate their time on earth as much as they could. The old man had a surprisingly good grasp of Eric's language, though he was close-lipped on where he came about such fluency, and Eric appreciated the quiet and peacefulness of the work that he did, and the fact that he did not seem to mind the time that Eric spent at his place at all.

The truth was, Morathi had sensed that all was not quite alright with the young foreigner, and that the burden that he was carrying was weighing him down. A man all alone in a strange place with no friends and family was indeed a difficult and lonely life to be living; but a man all alone with no one, and far from home, carrying the horrors of something no one should have to see, was no life to be living at all.

"Ah see you up in da dark of night, Meester Air-reek," Morathi said softly, a pipe hanging from the corner of his lips.

Eric looked up sharply.

Morathi's gnarled hands were slow and steady, whittling away at a table leg meticulously, never once looking up from his work.

"Ah have seen enough of dis world to know darkness when ah see it." He glanced up at Eric with old eyes. Eyes that missed nothing. "What shadows do yer run from, young man?" he asked quietly, looking at Eric closely.

In a blink of an eye, Eric's face went blank. Like a slate wiped clean. If Morathi had not been through the fires of hell himself he would not have understood it. But he had, and so he did, even anticipated it to some degree. It was such a mechanized reaction that Morathi guessed that Eric had been troubled for a while. It was a coping mechanism; Eric had forcefully distanced himself from whatever horrors he had endured. Compartmentalizing pain and torment till they were manageable and he could exercise some sort of control over them.

Eric met Morathi's eyes and his green gaze never wavered. "Nothing that has any business in this house, my friend."


	16. Chapter 16

"Did Thanksgiving come early?" Red muttered dazedly as he walked into the kitchen and stopped short.

Hyde peered around him to look, and saw that there was a mountain of food already on the table and trays of it formed a line on the counter near the sliding door. Kitty was bent over the oven and straightened as she heard him, slamming the oven door shut with a loud bang.

She threw down her oven mitts and glared at her husband, then felt around the stovetop behind her for her glass of wine. Her fingers closed around the bowl of the wineglass and she seized it and downed it all in one gulp.

"Oh-kay," Hyde muttered, and pushed around Red to get to the fridge.

Red looked at Kitty apprehensively. "Uh, honey, did you forget to take your pills again?"

Kitty shot him another murderous glare and grabbed the half empty wine bottle, splashing a generous amount into the glass in her hand. She brandished the bottle at him.

"You. You talk some sense into your son. I don't care how. But you tell him he _has_ to be back for Christmas, he has to! And he can't, he _can't!_ " her voice choked on a sob, "be staying in Africa for another year. He simply _CAN'T_!" she shrieked the last word at Red then downed the rest of her wine in a long wild swallow, before bursting into sobs and flying into his arms.

Red patted her awkwardly on her back, looking a little lost, and shot a helpless and befuddled look at Hyde. "Er…," he said.

"Wait, Mrs. Forman," Hyde interrupted, trying to be heard over the sound of her bawling, "you sayin' that Forman won't be back after his year is up?"

Kitty wailed. "No! He won't! My boy doesn't want to come home!" she yowled and broke into a fresh round of sobs.

"Uh. There now, Kitty," said Red. "It's not so bad. Let the dumbass stay there if he wants to. I'm sure Africa appreciates him more than we do. And hey! Maybe if he stays away long enough, he'll forget to come home!" He brightened visibly at the thought.

Kitty ceased howling and looked up at him balefully. "Red Forman, you can't have just said what I think you said."

He looked suitably chastised. "I'm just saying that for once in his life, he's doing something worth respecting — which is more than what I can say for the rest of the dumbasses who don't actually live in this house."

Donna, Randy and Fez chose that exact moment to come trudging up from the basement. "And there they are!" he muttered pointedly, giving them all a resentful glare.

"But. But!" Kitty hiccoughed and struggled to compose herself. She failed miserably, sobbing all over again. Wails of 'My baby!' and 'can't _hiccough_ possibly _hiccough_ mean to _hiccough hiccough_ ' interspersed her furious sobs.

The gang lined up along the cabinets in the kitchen, arms crossed or on their hips (Fez) and stared curiously at the scene in front of them.

A can of beer fizzed open and Hyde brought it to his lips.

"What's going on?" Donna whispered loudly to him.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Forman called to say he preferred African Christmases to American." He took another swallow from the can. "Oh, and that he was gonna be there another year," he gestured to a hysterical Kitty. "You can see how that's workin' out. Heh," he snickered, and thumped Red on the back as he left the kitchen.

It was difficult for Donna to remain unaffected as she took in the news. Sure, she was with Randy now, and she was happy with him, but a part of her was dismayed that she wouldn't see Eric for yet another year.

 _Thank God I didn't wait for him_ , she thought fiercely, _the selfish bastard._ But she was subdued and rather quiet for the rest of the day and the feeling stayed with her for a good two weeks after that.

* * *

"Your mom's pretty upset," remarked Jackie to Eric on the phone.

She heard him sigh in reply.

Truthfully, she was a little disappointed that she wouldn't be able to see him this year as well, but a selfish part of her was glad that he had decided to stay on in Africa. She was happy because she had been very nervous about how their new relationship would survive if he had come back to Wisconsin, and she had been afraid that things would have gone back to the way they were before he had left. Now that he had decided to stay on, they could continue as they were and she didn't have to worry about losing her only friend.

The larger part of her though, the side that truly cared and wanted the best for Eric, knew and understood why he had to stay on, and she respected that and left him be, silently supporting him in the best way that she knew how.

"Don't worry. I'll be by to keep her company and listen to her talk about you. A lot," she teased.

Eric was grateful. He was a good son and he didn't like the idea of his mother sobbing buckets over his need to stay away. But he couldn't go back to Wisconsin just yet.

He couldn't go back and act the good son, the laid-back friend, the untroubled person that he used to be when he wasn't, not anymore. Going back and having to pretend, weighed too heavily for him, and was a load that he simply couldn't take on his already overburdened shoulders. And he would act the part too, just to save his friends and family the trouble and pain of knowing the truth.

Jackie knew, and understood, if not in actuality, then on some sub-conscious level, for Eric never revealed. She knew he was suffering, sensed it to some degree, and the sensitive side that had been deeply buried in her psyche that never made an appearance until her deep, abiding love for Steven had brought it out in spades, kicked in and she acted on pure instinct, and gave Eric the support that he needed without once pressuring him to open up more than he could have.


	17. Chapter 17

Thanksgiving arrived and Jackie had spent Thanksgiving at the Formans', as did the rest of the basement gang.

Kitty did not disappoint and presented them all with a perfectly roasted turkey, complete with an apple and walnut stuffing and a large bowl of homemade cranberry sauce. Jackie ate and was merry and was grateful that Sam had to work that night (bigger tips during the festive season or whatever), and everyone seemed in buoyant spirits, even Hyde, so other than the one or two snide comments in her direction, he had been quiet for the rest of the evening.

It was after dinner, and she had grown tired of the boisterous crowd and chatter. Having been more often alone than not in the past months, she found that she didn't thrive in large groups of people anymore, and had come to enjoy some quiet time by herself; much like she realized during her relationship with Steven that she didn't crave to be the center of attention all the time either. His attention alone had been more than enough for her.

She had gone outside where she found herself up on the hood of Eric's old Vista Cruiser with an ice-cold bottle of apple cider. Steven had been _almost_ kind tonight, without Sam around and with the rest of the gang together, maybe it had brought back memories from the Thanksgivings of before when their gang had been whole and full, and everyone was content and happy. As it was, only Eric had been missing that night, as Kelso had brought Brooke and Betsy with him from Chicago. She had watched Steven joke around and trade insults with Kelso, and found that she couldn't keep her eyes away from him, despite a slight fuzz on his upper lip that he seemed determined to grow into some sort of a handlebar mustache.

She shuddered.

But she had watched him and as his blue eyes had lit up and he had laughed, and the slight dimple that she loved and used to kiss had appeared in his right cheek, she felt something inside her give, and her heart gave an almighty wrench. The crowd had gotten too much for her then, and as her vision started to mist slightly, she had excused herself and gone outside.

She looked down as her hand traced patterns on Eric's car, and she was appalled to find that they were spelling 'Steven' followed by a heart, and the start of a letter 'J' on the metal. She yanked her hand away and curled both of them around her drink, determined not to shed a single tear.

It was late and she should be making excuses to go, for she wasn't particularly fond of catching the last bus — those were usually filled with unsavory types, and she didn't feel in the mood to deal with a drunken loser or two. Fez would probably pull an all-nighter at the Forman house, as Kitty had generously invited Kelso and Brooke to Laurie's old bedroom, and had even provided a little cot for Betsy to sleep in.

As she prepared to go into the house, she heard the click-clack of impossibly high heels and realized that she hadn't been alone out here. A dark shape pushed itself off from the El Camino that was parked in the street and sauntered lazily to greet the newcomer.

Steven.

And Sam, from the shorts the woman was wearing in November temperatures. She saw them exchange a brief kiss, saw Sam smile in the lamplight, followed by a deeper kiss that had them both leaning against the Camino for support.

Jackie tore her eyes away and wondered if Steven waited for Sam like this every night: the loving husband welcoming his wife back home after a day at work. She took in a shuddering breath and this time, the tears she had been struggling to hold back did fall down her cheeks.

* * *

Hyde had noticed her go outside and just like how a needle would always point North on a compass, had followed her as usual. Oh, he had made sure that Jackie hadn't noticed of course, but he had leant against the Camino and observed her from the short distance, admiring the way her dark hair fell against her shoulder, all swept to one side of her neck.

She had been beautiful tonight, close to radiant even, with a slight sparkle to her eyes, which had been missing from them and from his life since the day he had let her walk out of it and invited Sam to take her place. Sam hadn't been around for dinner, and he hadn't been able to arm himself as effectively against Jackie, and had even slipped up and ladled an extra scoop of cranberry sauce on her plate because he remembered that she liked her turkey drenched in the stuff.

He remembered everything about her. And he was pissed that she had looked up at him, surprised, when she realized what he did and that he remembered. He had made a nasty comment after that though, when he registered her pleasure, but even his burn had lacked its usual spite.

He had noticed that she hadn't been around lately, for the last couple of months, or at least when he wasn't at home, for Kitty seemed to be seeing quite a bit of her. Kitty would talk about her as part of dinnertime conversation, to which Red would grunt in response to, and Hyde would pretend that he hadn't the least interest in the comings and goings of his ex-girlfriend.

Kitty had said that Jackie was doing fine, and was happy even. He had tried prying around for information on whether she was dating anyone, if whether a new man in her life had been the reason for her boost in spirits, but had heard no mention of anyone new. Kitty said that they talked about Forman a lot, and Hyde was just relieved that she wasn't seeing anyone.

He had been aggrieved that she didn't seem to be pining for him as much as he was for her (but to hear him admit that, even to himself, would be like pulling teeth) which made him meaner, more bitter and sent him in search of more beer.

When Sam had come click-clacking up the sidewalk in her stupid shoes, Hyde had gone to greet her. Something that he never did, and will never do again. He had kissed her, knowing that Jackie would see, and then decided to put in a bit more of a show with a deeper kiss. He did it all knowing that he was a bastard, a first class asshole, but he fully intended to screw Sam into oblivion tonight, just to forget the dark-haired beauty who wouldn't get out of his mind.

And if he had hurt Jackie with kissing Sam, then all the better, for it served her right for taking the sparkle out of his life. And somehow managing to find it again in her own.

* * *

And so Thanksgiving came and went, and Christmas soon followed.

It was a cold, but cheery and sunny day, and Jackie had elected to spend it alone this year. She had sent Eric a special box containing his Christmas present, and had put a lot of thought and effort, and many hours at the mall deciding on what to give him.

An emerald green cashmere scarf had caught her eye a couple of months back. She had been drawn to the color, perhaps because it reminded her of Eric, though she was ashamed to admit that she didn't really know the exact color of his eyes, as she had never really paid much attention to him before despite all the years that they had hung out together.

But the scarf she was eyeing was cashmere, and cashmere was one of the luxury items that she had to give up ever since she had fallen on harder times. And so she scrimped and saved for the first time in her life, and when she had had enough, she proudly splurged a good part of her salary on it for Eric.

She then wrapped it in tissue paper and carefully placed it in a huge Jackie Box: Eric's Christmas Special. She really hoped he liked her gift.

* * *

Eric fingered the scarf that Jackie had gotten him. It was incredibly soft, much like he imagined her skin to feel like. He placed it aside to take out the other items that comprised Jackie's gift to him.

A smile lit his face as he saw the miniature Christmas tree lying under the scarf. It wasn't a real tree, but it came with a note attached to it.

 _Just because you aren't here for Christmas doesn't mean that you don't get to have a tree. I'm sorry I couldn't send you a real tree, the US postal service insisted that I couldn't, and that I would be violating an international law. Jerks._

She had even hung up little ornaments for him. He put it in the corner of the room. His hut looked cheerier and more festive already.

He looked down and noticed that she had given him something else.

A tree topper.

It wasn't very big, the size of his palm, just the right size for his tree. But what truly touched him was that it was hand-made, and it was clear to him just whose hands had made this for him. A little crude perhaps, made from clay —and he was a little surprised that she would get her hands dirty to mould it for him— but the unmistakeable figure of Luke Skywalker holding a banner lay flat at the bottom of the box.

He picked it up to place it on top of his new Christmas tree when he read the words scratched into the banner that Luke was holding above his head.

Merry Christmas, Eric:

You're My Happy Place

Yours, Jackie

And he truly felt the spirit of Christmas touch him then.


	18. Chapter 18

Hyde supposed that he shouldn't really be surprised when Sam's husband showed up at the Forman household. After all, considering what Sam was, there was possibly a whole lot of other skeezy details that she would have hidden from him. But he found out that he was surprised. And to a more troubling extent, he found that he actually cared.

When the middle-aged man stuck his hand out and introduced himself as Larry, Sam's husband, his first instinct was outright denial.

No, he wasn't in love with Samantha. And there was no way that he could ever fall in love with her. Not like he could ever fall in love with anyone after Jackie. And especially not because he was still in love with Jackie.

But Larry came anyway, and Hyde felt himself feeling something. He supposed it was because he had gotten used to the idea that, where Sam was concerned, he would be the one doing the leaving, or be the one that showed her the door. The thought that she would leave him first had never even crossed his mind.

So because he was Steven Hyde, when Sam turned to him and begged him to let her stay, he showed her the door.

"But Hyde, baby," she whined in her annoying breathy voice.

"See ya, Sam."

She grasped at his arm. He shook off the red talons that were threatening to cut off his blood supply.

"But…baby. I love you," she wailed.

He slammed the door in her face.

That night, he got rip-roaring drunk. He felt like he had traded in his beautiful, beloved El Camino for some broken-down jalopy that he hadn't even wanted in the first place.

Randy and Donna found his sorry ass when the bartender at his favorite drinking hole called at one in the morning to request that they 'please take him home' for he was 'drunk off his ass' and was 'a fight waiting to happen'.

He tried to fight Randy off when they gently guided him to the waiting car in the parking lot outside.

"Lemme be," he slurred and pushed at him. "Whose piece of crap car is this?" he demanded when he saw Randy's blue Ford. "Who took my Camino? Where's my Camino, man. Where's my baby? My baby. Jackie… Jackieeeeeeeeeee," he howled then tripped over his own feet.

Donna and Randy huffed and grunted, and half-carried, half-dragged him into the Ford.

"Lemme be!" he repeated and swiped at them. "Jackieeeeee!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

He continued baying and yowling her name all through the ride to the Formans'. By the time Donna and Randy got to the driveway, they were ready to toss him down the basement stairs and be done with him.

"Naw. I don't want ya touchin' me ya blonde bitch," Hyde lashed out when Donna tried to help him out of the car. "Jackie! Jackieeeeeee!"

"Shhhhh! Shush!" Donna hissed at him and slammed the car door back close. "He's gonna wake everyone up!" she whisper-shouted to Randy over the top of the car.

He shot her a look with his eyebrows raised. "You think?" he whisper-shouted back at her.

He bent down and opened the door from the other side. Hyde was sprawled over the back seat.

"Jackie! Jackieeee!"

Randy quickly slammed the door shut again. He looked at Donna. "Can't we just leave him there?"

Donna glared. "And have him hurl all over your car? I'm not making out with you in there ever again."

"Fine. Fine!" He opened the door again and attempted to haul Hyde out by his armpits.

"Jack—,"

The door slammed shut again. Randy shoved his hands through his hair. "What are we gonna d—" he stopped mid-word and stared behind Donna's shoulder with no small amount of fright in his eyes. Donna whirled around to meet the angry glare of Red Forman.

He looked disheveled, grouchy and downright mean. Donna gulped.

"What in blue blazes. Why, is that dumbass" -he pointed towards the backseat of Randy's car- "wailing like a banshee in the middle of my driveway, at this hour?!"

He glared at the both of them. "If either of you wake Kitty up, or any of the neighbors complain come morning, my foot is going so far up your asses, no one will be sitting for a week."

"Uh, Mr. Forman, sir," began Randy nervously, "Hyde's drunk and won't stop screaming for Jackie."

"Then get on the phone and get her ass here!" he flung back at them. "But make sure he keeps quiet!"

With that, he turned on his heel and marched back inside the house, the bottom of his dressing gown billowing impressively out behind him.

The both of them stared after him.

Randy broke the silence after a couple of beats. "Okay… I guess we call Jackie then."

Donna sighed, and headed over to her house to use the phone there.

* * *

Surprisingly, Jackie agreed to come over with minimal fuss, and was actually waiting for them at the foot of her apartment when Randy and Donna drove over.

Hyde had been conscious and howling 'Dancing Queen' in the back seat for a good part of the drive there, but mercifully passed out a half a mile from Jackie and Fez's and was snoring noisily when they pulled up.

Jackie pulled her jacket tighter around her as she walked over to the car. She opened the back door and hesitated for a second before sliding in and gently lifting Hyde's head on to her lap to give her room to sit.

"What happened?" she softly asked, when they were out on the road and on the way back to the Formans'.

Donna blew out a breath. "Long story short: Sam's husband showed up. Hyde kicked her out, then got wasted."

After all that Jackie had been through, she honestly wasn't even that surprised to learn that Sam the Stripper was already married.

"Huh," she said.

Donna turned around to look at her over her shoulder. "He won't quit screaming for you. Red made us come get you so he would shut up."

Jackie was staring down at Hyde, her fingers absently stroking the soft curls away from his face. She nodded.

She didn't know what to think. She was baffled that Steven had been shouting for her, and though she knew that he was drunk, and couldn't really be held accountable for his actions, a small burst of hope ignited in her chest.

In sleep, the bitter hostility that was always etched on his face when she was around had faded away, and he looked younger and content — the same as he had always looked after they had made love and he had drifted off to sleep with her in his arms.

His eyes opened briefly and he registered her face above his. "You're here," he said and then he smiled, a peaceful one full of satisfaction, before he drifted off again.

Somehow, between the three of them, they managed to get him down the basement and into his bed. Donna and Randy hightailed it out the door the moment he was slumped across the cot, but Jackie lingered, reluctant to leave.

She removed his boots and took off his jacket, pulling the covers over him and making him as comfortable as she could. When she could do no more, she lay a hand against his cheek and removed his glasses, placing them on the dresser next to the bed. She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and turned to go.

As if he sensed somehow that she was about to leave him, his eyes flew open.

"Jackie," he rasped, and grabbed her hand. "Stay with me."

She looked into his blue eyes, uncovered by sunglasses for the first time since their break up. And in them she saw him. Her Steven. She saw his love for her, his regret at everything that had happened. And she felt the love she still had for him pour out in reply.

"Steven," she whispered joyfully. "You're back."

"Stay with me Jackie," he pleaded.

She pushed his hair off his forehead and smiled softly. "Of course, Puddin'."

He looked at her like how he used to. With longing. Disbelief, that she would love him, and the wonder that she did. He looked at her and she saw the love that he professed to her only once before simmering deep in his eyes.

He brought up a hand to her face, "Jackie I —".

He broke off and reached up to pull her towards him, and she kissed him with every fibre of being in her body. He pulled back after a while.

"What's this?" He touched the wetness he felt on his cheek. "You cryin', doll?"

"I'm just so happy, Steven."

He smiled and pulled her towards him again. She fell into his arms as naturally as she did before. As if they had never been apart.

His lips found hers and her tongue found his and when they were skin to skin she thought she would die from the sheer ecstasy of it. He knew her body like the back of his hand, and she arched toward the feel of his touch, as familiar with his sense of rhythm and style as he was with hers.

And when he finally entered her, her tears were flowing freely. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms about his neck, and welcomed his hard heat into her body and she was so happy she thought her heart would finally burst.


	19. Chapter 19

The first thing that he noticed when he woke up the next morning was a tumble of sable hair across his chest, and a sense of deep peace filled his soul. The thing that followed that feeling of soul-stirring peace was an all-consuming fear. Fear so intense that it threatened to choke him. He could not breathe. A desperate need to flee flooded him. He could not do this, it was simply too much. He yearned for the safety of emotionless zen.

She must have felt him shift, for she stirred awake. It took her a moment, but then she must have remembered the previous night for she turned to look up at him with a smile of deep joy on her lips.

Her eyes were big and beautiful and limpid, and as usual, they reflected her every emotion. He read in them all that she had to offer and all that she wanted from him. All that she wanted, and all that he was scared shitless to give. Because built at the very core of the man that he was, lay an unquenchable need to preserve himself. And in her eyes, he saw a demand that he could not fulfill.

Not now anyway.

He shrugged her off his chest gently, intent on getting away. Sam was gone. And with her went his shield and his easy way out.

Jackie held the sheet up to her chest. She looked at Steven and a sinking feeling started to pool in her stomach. She watched as he searched for the jeans he had discarded the night before and wrench open a drawer to grab a t-shirt.

A Ted Nugent one, she saw. When he reached across her to grab his keys and shades off the sideboard where her picture once rested, she could hold it in no more.

"Steven," she said.

He stopped mid-reach and fisted his hand at his side.

"Steven, please look at me."

He turned towards her then, and as she looked into his eyes, his blue blue eyes, she knew. She knew in her heart and her soul that it was not to be, again. His eyes were conflicted and pained, but mostly, she saw desperation.

It hurt, it really hurt her to know that it seemed that all she was capable of making him feel was that.

"Jackie, stop it. I can't be that guy, okay?"

"What guy? Steven, I don't need you to be anyone."

"Yeah, you do. All your hopes and expectations and dreams and crap and goddamn ultimatums.

"I'm not that guy and I will never be that guy." He shoved his hand violently through his unruly hair. "God, Jackie. Leave me alone. You're stranglin' me, man."

She swallowed and put a hand out. "Okay… Okay." She racked her brains and tried to think of the right thing to say. The right thing that would not chase him away.

"What do you need from me, Steven. What can I do?"

Something in him snapped. Fire shot out from his eyes and he growled, "God, just stop, okay. Stop being you."

Jackie reeled as if he had slapped her and she paled. "Okay…" She swallowed again, hard. "Okay. I see."

She licked her dry lips.

"Look, I can't give you a diamond ring okay. I still can't. I don't know if I ever can. Why can't you just go back to bein' that girl who was okay with a burger wrapped in tinfoil?"

She was nearly crying now. "I thought you wanted me. You did last night. You were happy last night."

"Yeah, and then I woke up, okay. Without the alcohol buzz. And god I can see it in your eyes and it freaks me out. You freak me out. I can't be around you right now. You gotta leave, doll. Last night was" —he pulled a hand down his face— "a mistake okay. I was upset cos Sam left and you were there. And old habits die hard."

She started sucking in short breaths of air.

"I love you, Steven. Please. Please… I can't stop," she whispered pleadingly.

Desperately.

Hyde stared at her disbelievingly. His gut wrenched.

"Jesus, Jackie. Seriously? Now? After everything I said? I can't freakin' believe this." He grabbed his keys and shades off the sideboard and strode to the door.

She watched him leave. God she couldn't take it anymore. Her heart was ripped to shreds. And she curled up in his bed where she could still smell him on the sheets, and she cried and cried until no more tears would come.

* * *

Just when she thought that life could not throw her anymore curve balls, it did. And right after she got home from her night with Steven too.

Jackie stared disbelievingly at the letter in her hand.

 _Dear Ms. Burkhart,_

 _We regret to inform you that the standing order you have issued to withdraw funds in payment for tuition fees at The University of Wisconsin has been unsuccessful due to insufficient funds in your account._

 _You may wish to explore other options to fund your education at the above mentioned institute._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _John Watten_

 _Manager_

 _Point Place Commercial Bank_

This was impossible. Jackie dialed the number provided frantically.

"Good morning, PPCB, how can I assist you?"

"Yes my name is Jacqueline Burkhart and I would like to know why I've received a letter stating that my account has insufficient funds? That's impossible!"

"One moment please, Ms. Burkhart." Jackie could hear the click clacking of keys through the phone.

"There's no mistake, Ms. Burkhart, there was a large withdrawal made from your account dated three days ago. Your current balance is $250 and point zero three cents."

Jackie sank shakily down to her bed, her fingers clutching the phone so tightly they had gone white.

"Who," her voice broke and she cleared her throat. "Who made that withdrawal?"

More clacking, then, "From our branch in Cancun, a Mrs. Pamela Burkhart, miss."

* * *

Jackie sat on her bed in her bedroom for a long time staring at nothing, thinking of everything. When she finally registered that the pale, broken-looking girl that was looking back at her in the mirror was herself, she pulled herself up and plastered the most courageous smile she could muster on her face. A deep resolve gathered inside her and cemented her spine. She sat up straight.

Come to Africa. She remembered Eric's words.

Her chin lifted and her she squared her shoulders.

Fine, she thought, I'm going to Africa.

* * *

The next several days passed in a whirl for her. She sorted out the necessaries, cleaned out the $250.03 in her account, informed Mrs. Forman that she was going away for a bit, told Fez she was moving out, collected the deposit from her share of the rent and blew it all on the plane ticket to Africa.

Fez was kind enough to let her keep her stuff in her room till she found a new place, but was puzzled when he heard that she was going to Africa.

"But Yackie, I don't understand."

"What, Fez?"

"Why're you going to Africa?"

"Eric's in Africa."

"Yes, and that is what I don't understand," he stated blankly. "Why would you want to go to Africa when Eric is there?"

"Oh Fez."

She thrust a bag of M&Ms at him. He shut up.

The truth was, she didn't know what to tell him. Heck, she couldn't even explain it herself. But she was drowning and she felt that only Eric would be able to save her.

Two days later, she was on a plane to Africa.


	20. Chapter 20

**II**

 **Africa**

A blast of dusty hot air hit her when Jackie left the cool confines of the airport. She was overwhelmed by the sea of people and never-ending chatter of an unfamiliar yet musical sounding language. She struggled to control the rickety trolley the airport provided to help her with her bags, cursing herself for overpacking again for what was to be a week long trip. She scanned the people around her, but did not see anyone she recognized.

 _God, where was he?_ Jackie huffed and attempted again to navigate the stupid trolley with the broken front wheel when she heard someone call her name.

She turned around to look, searching for his familiar lanky form and was stunned when she finally recognized the man not six feet away from her.

"Eric," she said simply. A rush of emotion flooded through her as she stood and took him in.

Gone was his shaggy mop, replaced instead by a short, no-fuss hair cut. His eyes blazed green from a bronzed face, several shades darker from the pale Wisconsin winter complexion that she remembered last. Broader, stronger, taller somehow, he was just _more_ than her memories of him. He looked the same, yet different at the same time. She didn't know what to make of it. She didn't know what to say to him now in person after the months and months of letters and phone calls that led to her flight out here. But before she could open her mouth to say anything more, he gave a short wave and crossed over to her.

He noticed her staring.

"It's the heat," he said, mistaking the purpose of her stare and gestured to his hair.

"And besides, when you need to draw water from a well to bathe, well, less hair means less water needed to get it clean. And trust me, drawing bucketfuls of water from a twenty foot deep well is no easy task."

Her mouth fell open. "No plumbing? No hot water? I have to bathe with _well_ water?!"

Eric glanced at her and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," he said with a short shrug, as they walked the distance to where he had parked. "This is Africa, Jackie. They're lucky if they actually _have_ water to bathe with." He looked up to the cloudless sky. "It's been a good year so far, enough rain and the soils have been good to the village people. So they... We… have enough to eat."

Jackie was quiet for a while, absorbing his words.

He slanted a wary glance at her, half expecting her to turn and run back into the airport, the other half wasn't sure what he would do if she did indeed do so.

And then she surprised him by laughing.

"I suppose it doesn't really matter." A shrug. "If I can live through Steven choosing his whore over me, I suppose I can bathe with cold water from a well."

She flashed him an impish smile. "Anything Eric Forman can do, Jackie Burkhart can do better."

Eric was amused. "Perhaps. She's a feisty one, Jackie Burkhart."

He looked at her again. "You've changed," he murmured quietly.

She paused before replying, taking him in. Feeling the air of quiet about him.

Steady. Strong. Unwavering... Solid.

"So have you," she replied.


	21. Chapter 21

The drive to the village was a long one, and Jackie spent the entire trip there intermittently dozing and staring out at the passing sights.

"Is it safe here?" She asked Eric at one point. "I mean, are there robbers or thieves or ax-wielding madmen around here?"

Eric barked out a short laugh. "Well," he glanced over at her, wondering how much to tell.

She looked back at him curiously. "Well, what?"

He shrugged. "I was kinda mugged by three men when I first got here. And uh, by 'men', I really mean 12 year-old boys. But it's hard to think of them as well, _boys_ , you know. They're really more like men in boys' bodies." He paused, lost in thought for a while, then sighed. "Life here, it forces you to grow up real quick."

"What did they want, Eric?"

"Money. Cash. The clothes off my back. They came up to me just off the airport and pointed a gun in my face."

Jackie stared at him wide-eyed. "Oh my God, Eric!"

He grimaced. "Yeah," he said and rubbed the back of his neck. "I swear I almost wet my pants. I thought they needed help with something, y'know. They were just _boys_. I figured they were lost or something... Needed help finding their family... Thankfully though, airport security noticed them tailing me a while back and decided to follow me to see if I was in any trouble."

The car sped on and he stared at the road ahead. "I grew up real quick after that. The desperation in their eyes. They would have done it too. Shot me just to make off with what? A couple of hundred dollars and a lousy shirt my mom got me in 9th grade? Yeah well, apparently it's an _American_ shirt so, it would have fetched them a couple of dollars in resale value."

"A couple of dollars!"

Eric gave a sad smile. "Yeah Jackie, a couple of dollars would have fed their families for an entire week."

Life in Africa was hard, the climate was harsh, the land was unyielding and the sun was unforgiving. The people here were exposed to hardship on a daily basis and they accepted it as part of life. There was no complaining, no whining, no railing against God or the fates or whatever higher power they believed in for casting them this lot in life.

Eric had done a lot of reflecting, and his troubles in America, his relationship with Donna, his struggle for acceptance with Red, his desire to stop being a mama's boy, all seemed so insignificant when compared to the wall of difficulties that these people had to scale every day. Out here, problems were a matter of life and death. And well things such as his _feelings_ , which he once lived and breathed by, or were ruled by, seemed so trivial in the great struggle of _life_ that seemed so tangible here.

Jackie didn't know what to say. And to be honest, there really wasn't anything _to_ say.

She looked at Eric again. Really looked at him. She saw lines in his young face that were never there before. The slightly harder set of his mouth.

He had grown up, she realized. In the year and a half that she and the rest of the basement gang had been off living the drama of their lives in relative ignorance of what true suffering was, Eric had gone off and made himself a man. And with that thought came another one: _Red would be proud of him_.

Yes, Red would be proud. But at what cost? Jackie found herself thinking, still staring at him. It hit her again, that same feeling that she had gotten in Point Place, that something was off and not quite right. Something that was very, very different about him. He seemed… Detached. Restrained.

And there was something in his eyes that bothered her.

The sudden inexplicable feeling of sadness that assailed her was staggering. Eric had lost his wide-eyed innocence, once so much part of his boyish geeky charm, to something that was far darker and grimmer than she could possibly understand at that moment.

"Oh, Eric."

She moved a little towards him and laid her hand on his arm. He seemed to tense involuntarily at her touch, then relaxed. And despite everything, she couldn't help but smile. "Wow, you've really filled out some. And no more slender wrists I see."

Amusement tugged at his lips. "Come now, Jackie, don't look so surprised. I do more than just teach you know." A pause, and then, "Like got bitten by an African spider that gave me these new special muscles."

Jackie snorted.

Another slight grin. And, "Fine, I help out at the crop fields or the men with the building and stuff that comes with living in a village. It's hard work. In turn, they share their food and water with me. And for four hours every day, I teach."

She nodded, absorbing his words, and looked out the window again.

"Eric… Eric, I wanna thank you for having me out here." She took a deep breath. "And you know, I want to help too. I want to do what it is you do in the village. I want to see what your life is like here."

He took his eyes off the road to stare at her for a moment. God she was so beautiful. How had he never noticed before?

It had been easy to spot her among the throng at the airport, and he had seen her long before she had noticed him. He had dreamed about her, longed for her, wanted her for months, but when he had made to go to her, he found that he could not move. An onslaught of emotions had surged through him. It had been a year, maybe more, since he had felt anything like that mere glance of Jackie had roused in him, and like a blind man who had just been gifted with sight, he found himself yearning for more.

On the outside though, there was no way anyone could have guessed that from looking at him. Sitting beside her in the car, he looked into her eyes, and saw nothing but an earnestness that moved him. He kept his eyes on the road but took his right hand off the wheel and reached over to take her much smaller one in his.

"Yeah? I would like nothing better."

She was surprised at the spark of electricity that shot up her arm from where their hands were joined. She stared at their intertwined fingers and looked up at his strong profile, trying to place that spark she felt.

He stroked the soft skin at the base of her thumb with his, and shot her a sweet smile. "I'm glad you're here, Jackie."

They drove the remainder of the journey in comfortable silence. And she was content to let her hand remain in his.


	22. Chapter 22

As they pulled into the village, children came running towards the car from all directions, cheering and waving. Faced with the reality of his new life and seeing how well accepted he was, Jackie suddenly felt uncharacteristically nervous and very out of place. What if they didn't like her?

"Wow, you're really popular here," she commented.

"And about to get even more popular now that I brought a beautiful girl back with me." He put the car in park and gave her a rakish wink.

"Trying to distract me with the compliment and out of character wink, Forman?"

"Is it working?"

She giggled. She had never thought that he found her attractive before.

They exited the car and were surrounded by about twenty chattering children of varying ages. Their heads were all closely shaved, be it male or female and they were all frantically competing for Eric's attention.

"Mees-ter Air-reek! Mees-ter Air-reek!"

"Who's da pretty lah-dee?"

"Oooooh pretty hair!"

"Ees she yore guhl-friend?"

At that last statement the crowd let out a resounding catcall. "Wooooooh!"

Despite herself, Jackie blushed. She was charmed by them. Their exuberance, their warmth, their apparent love for 'Mees-ter Air-reek'.

She met Eric's eyes and he gave her an encouraging smile.

"Hello everyone. My name is Jackie," she introduced herself with a brilliant smile and wave. "I'm a friend of Mister Eric's. And I've come to stay with you for a while. I hope that's okay."

"Oooooh-ee! Stay! Stay for-evah!"

And the whole lot of them laughed, including Eric.

"Alright kids. So you've met my lady. Now run along and let me get her settled in."

They cackled and waved and ooohed some more before dispersing back to whatever activities they were doing before Eric and Jackie's arrival. He went around back to open the trunk. Standing with his hand on the hatch, he eyed her three bags. "You know, for a week long trip, I kinda expected that you'd bring more."

"Well. I would have, but I ran out of hands to carry more bags. Here, let me take one, you can handle the others." She reached for one. "Careful! Those are heav-,"

He shrugged her aside and slung the giant duffel over his shoulder. Then in one easy motion, picked up her other two bags.

"-vy," she finished, staring at him mouth agape.

He noticed and gave her a half smile. "Don't look so surprised. There _is_ an upside to hauling water out of wells — I can now carry your bags." He threw her another wink then set off at a brisk pace, leaving her to stare after him and wonder at the light fluttering of butterflies in her tummy.

* * *

Eric's hut, and really, there was no other word to describe it for it was really a hut; was a sturdy round dwelling with a thatched roof that rose up to a point at the very top. The windows were merely narrow rectangles cut into the walls and a larger rectangle about four by seven feet stood as a door. Planks of wood neatly nailed together swung inwards on hinges to admit them.

Eric set her bags down towards the side of the room, where a neatly made mattress was. There was another one about six feet away that was unmade, so she assumed that that was where he slept. For a moment, the reserve left him and he seemed almost nervous.

"So yeah, this is me." He indicated the room around them. "It's not much, and there's virtually no privacy, but uh, it's home.

"There's a wash stand over there, the toilet is adjacent to the hut, the screen over there is where you can dress and uh stuff." He trailed off, looking at the spartan room through new eyes. "Um yeah, that's uh, pretty much it."

He placed his hands on his hips and chanced a glance at her. This was after all, Jackie Burkhart, princess of Point Place. At that moment he thought his long standing invitation for her to come visit was one of the stupidest ideas he had ever come up with. Next to the maddening feelings that he had developed for her of course. That one was ranked so far up on his Scale of Dumbassery that he refused to even consider the amount of pain it was surely going to cause him.

Jackie ran a hand along the mud walls of the hut. Truth be told, this was pretty hard to take in. When she set out to leave Point Place for Africa, she had to admit that she never really stopped to consider what _living_ in Africa would be like. She had just thought of Eric and an overwhelming desire to simply be with him.

It was that thought that she held on to now, as she looked slowly at the room around her.

"Remember when you once told me that I was a princess who lost her castle?"

Eric frowned a little in thought and looked at her. "Yeah."

"Well I just realized that this is a village," she said, and stopped to stand in front of him, "and guess what? I'm living in my very own fairytale." She clasped her hands together and looked at him with a humorous sparkle in her eyes. "Isn't it romantic?"

Eric looked at her and fell a little bit more in love with her and ranked himself a little bit higher on his imaginary Scale of Dumbassery.

* * *

After she got settled in, Eric took Jackie on a little tour of the village. He introduced her to the people, and showed her the sights. He knew a fair amount of people by name, and they all seemed to know him, though that was hardly surprising, for he was the only white man in the village. He explained that he had initially been stationed in one of the more developed areas, in a larger, more modern village, but had decided to move to this one. Jackie asked him why, sensing that there was more to it than what he was telling, but a darkness crossed his face and he shrugged off her question, directing her attention to a small white building with a corrugated roof instead.

"That's where the children go to school. I teach for maybe four hours a day, depending on the turnout. Some of these children can't come to school everyday, and it's an ongoing struggle for me to convince them to come or their parents to let them."

"Why?"

"Why can't they come to school everyday or why won't their parents let them learn?"

She lifted her shoulders. "Both, I guess."

He hooked his thumbs on the waistband of his jeans and raised his head to stare at the schoolhouse ahead. "The majority of the people here simply can't afford the luxury of sending their children to school—" he held up a hand when he saw her begin to interrupt. "They don't have to pay to learn, but what their parents will _lose_ in income when they send their kids to school is substantial — for them."

She furrowed her brow, taking in what he said. "You're saying that these kids can't go to school because they have to work?"

"No," he shook his head. "It's not _work_ work. You can't say that. And it's not just that. You have to understand that things here are very different from back home. It's more like… Helping out. Think about it this way: it's no different from when you do your chores at home. Only here, they help their parents with, say, stripping skin off a shoot of sugar cane for mom and dad to sell, instead of, you know, sweeping the gutter like Red loves having me do."

They shared a smile at that.

She brushed some hair out of her eyes. "I think I can understand that," she said, looking at him. "I feel guilty for saying this, but it makes me feel lucky to be born in America."

He nodded pensively. "It's the same in rural agricultural places across the world. Vietnam. Cambodia. India. China. The kids take pride in being able to help their parents. To be able to contribute in their way. Education right now isn't that important to them. A piece of paper isn't important. Skills here are learnt. And they learn by watching their parents _do_. Not by sitting in a classroom listening to me talk.

"Maybe in ten or twenty years it will be different," he said and paused to stare off at something in the distant horizon. He shook his head and turned to look back at her. "But we're barely into the 80s now… Mindsets take time to change. And even if they do, these changes don't happen overnight."

He sighed. "But that's just one part of it," he said. "There also aren't enough people suitable and qualified for the role. If you keep sending your kids to school and they have to stop every few weeks because the 'teacher'" —he wiggled two fingers in the air— "leaves to go back to his home country, or because of some corruption or embezzlement charge, wouldn't you be wary too? It just makes things so much harder when the people that are supposed to be helping them don't inspire much confidence."

He hung his head and looked at the ground. His eyes followed a line of ants scurrying across the orange of the ground before he continued softly, "If I can make a difference in just _one_ life, help just _one_ person, I would say that I've accomplished something here."

It was a strong speech and Jackie felt her eyes open to circumstances in a very different way. She wasn't used to the strangeness of feeling sheltered and ignorant and she didn't like it. She frowned, and was determined to educate and better herself. This too, was a new feeling, but she decided that she much preferred it to feeling uninitiated.

Her gaze fell on Eric and slowly traced the strong line of his nose, the angle of his jaw, dropping to the contour of his lips. And when she looked into his eyes she saw a fire in the green depths. He was passionate about this, she realized. She used to scoff at all his Star Wars mumbo jumbo about Jedi warriors and Luke saving Leia, but in a sudden flash of insight she realized that at the heart of it Eric Forman had always been about playing the hero. And here, now, to these people, it looked like he wasn't playing at one anymore. He _was_ one.

This was a side of him she never saw before. And a side that she liked very much indeed. Eric had inadvertently revealed intentions that had struck a chord within her. The very same chord that longed for white knights and dashing princes to play to the typical princess that she was at heart.


	23. Chapter 23

The sounds of the village awakening filtered into Jackie's semiconscious the next morning. The mattress she slept on was surprisingly comfortable and as she yawned and stretched herself awake, she glanced over and noticed that Eric's bed looked un-slept in. She frowned, finding it odd. She dismissed the thought as the door pushed open and Eric came in, a sheen of sweat across his brow, in a T-shirt with his running shoes on.

He looked like he hadn't slept all night, and there was a hollow look about him that disappeared when he spotted Jackie sitting cross-legged on the mattress. She appeared to have just woken up, and she looked so deliciously rumpled he felt his breath catch.

She raised an eyebrow as she eyed his attire. "You run now?"

"And a good morning to you too, sunshine."

She wasn't wearing a bra, and he could see the dusky outline of her nipples clearly against the thin camisole that she had worn to sleep. He willed his eyes away, and reached for a bottle of water on the table nearby.

She yawned again and wrinkled her nose. "You're all sweaty."

"Hmmm yes, yes I am." He feigned a look of deep thought. "You see, this" —he indicated his sweaty t-shirt— "is what happens when one exercises."

He held up a finger, and then twisted the cap off the bottle, taking a long drink. He met her eyes again and intoned, "This phenomenon occurs when our body tempera—"

Jackie threw a sock at him.

He ducked. "—rature rises and eccrine sweat glands— "

She found a pillow and threw it at him too.

He deftly caught that. "—-kick into gear to stabilize—"

She got out of bed and left the room.

* * *

Jackie had a mild seizure after getting dressed that morning and realizing that Eric didn't have a full-length mirror, or _any_ other kind of mirror _any_ where in the hut.

"But it's not really a _necessity—_ "

"Just how do you shave!"

"Now, now Jackie, there's no need to shriek _quite_ like that—. Shit! You're hyperventilating! Okay breathe, just breathe."

She glared at him, swatting away the paper bag he was waving in her face. "How am I supposed to look nice without a mirror, _Eric_?!" she wailed.

He looked at her in amusement. "Jackie, I'm sure you've heard this a million times before, but you're so beautiful you put angels to shame."

She blinked at him. Then recovered in a flash and threw him the coyest look she had. "You think I'm beautiful?"

He snorted and rolled his eyes heavenward.

"Say it, Eric."

He gave her one of his lopsided smiles and looked deep into her eyes. He expected to see only merriment in there, but was surprised to find a deep insecurity lurking in the mesmerizing brown depths as well.

He frowned to himself and let his hands trail down her arms to take hers in his much larger ones, his voice deep with sincerity.

"You're beautiful, angel-face."

Jackie melted in a puddle at his feet. "Oh, Eric. Thank you," she said quietly.

She had no idea that she had needed to hear those words until he said them. It had been so long, and she had been through so much since Steven had told her last, that she was sure that her looks had eroded long ago with everything else that had made her _her._ She gave him a heart-stopping smile and on impulse, leant up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

She felt beautiful as she walked out of the room, even without the mirror. Her face was bare and her arm looped through his, and she thought that today, just for Eric, perhaps she could do without her beloved make-up after all.

* * *

Two days later, she heard a hammering coming from inside the hut as she was walking back with a basket of fruit.

She walked in and squealed, nearly dropping her basket in surprise.

"A mirror! Oh Eric, a mirror!" She twirled and danced and rushed over to where he was busy nailing it to the wall to wrap her arms around his waist, jumping all the while in glee.

"Jackie, if you don't quit doing that I'm gonna smash my thumb."

She looked around him and caught his eyes in the reflection of the glass. She noticed that the odd shadows there had receded somewhat to the twinkle that was in place. She beamed at him and he grinned in return, thoroughly beguiled by the happy flush in her cheeks and the press of her supple body against his.

"Happy now?"

She nodded happily and squeezed his waist.

He gave her a short nod in return. "Okay then, my work here is done."

He loosened his grip on the hammer and let it slide till he was holding it at the neck. He turned around in her arms and she released him and stepped back.

"That was three chickens and thirty dollars," he said as he jerked his thumb toward the mirror. "Oh, the price of vanity." He crossed his arms and smirked at her, a devilish glint appearing in his eye. "How" —he tapped his jaw— "is Jackie Burkhart gonna get three chickens to repay me with?" He raised an eyebrow and took a step closer to her.

Jackie felt her pulse beat faster at the look in his eye. There it was again. Those butterflies. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and she watched as Eric followed it with his eyes. He was looking at her in a way that she was unused to receiving from him and in spite of everything she grew suddenly nervous.

Sensing her sudden change in mood, Eric backed off. He laughed lightly to dispel the tension and uncertainty he read in her eyes and reached out a finger to touch her cheek instead.

"Consider it a welcome to Africa present, okay?"

She smiled, feeling relieved and nodded her head. "Thanks." She paused to chew on her bottom lip for a moment before adding, "You're a good friend, Eric."

He gave her a small smile and tried to ignore the stab of pain in his gut. "Always, Jackie."

She flashed him another smile before leaving the room, the door swinging a little in her wake.

He stared at the door long after Jackie had left the hut; wondering if it was his lot in life to always want something more than what people were willing to give.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: TRIGGER WARNING**

The following chapter will be a **dark DARK one ** that deals with birth and infanticide and has mentions of blood. I tried not to make it graphic, but please skim, or skip to the next chapter if it offends.

I plead creative license and have taken liberties with some of the details here. Hamer-Banna is largely an unscripted and rare language, so I've actually used the more common Amharic in some of the dialogue. The Hamer tribes don't speak English at all, but for the sake of clarity, they do here. I also don't claim to speak any of the languages, and what I used here I got from Google.

I've done quite a bit of research on the fascinating tribes of the Omo River and I sincerely hope I've done their culture justice, not just here, but in further mentions as we continue on with Eric and Jackie's journey. :)


	25. Chapter 25

The days merged into one other and Jackie found herself falling into life at the village seamlessly, which was not without a great deal of surprise on her part. What was supposed to have been a week long trip, extended into another and soon, Jackie somehow found that she couldn't fix a concrete end to her time in Africa. There was a lightness to her step and the cloud that had been hovering above her before she left Wisconsin had dissipated a little.

The children loved her for her child-like enthusiasm, and the adults welcomed her for the easiness of her smile (which had been somewhat absent since Sam had darkened the Formans' doorstep), and it was a regular sight as she did what she could to ease their way.

Admittedly, it wasn't much, for Jackie was never one for manual labor and most of the chores and rigors of daily life in the village was some sort of physical undertaking, (and come on, yes she had changed but she hadn't changed all _that_ much) but she was a source of bubbly energy and endless optimism to the people.

She had a knack for finding little bits of nature: long reeds, flowers, pieces of bark or stones and pebbles of fascinating shapes and colors, little items that on the surface held no real value, but she somehow fashioned them into accessories; items such as headbands, which she braided the reeds into, or a brooch she made out of a safety pin and the flowers she pressed and dried. She managed to charm the tool-maker in the village, a crotchety old man, into hollowing out the centers of the prettiest of the stones that she found on one of her 'scavenging' trips with the older girls in the village, and had it strung into bracelets for them.

She soon had an adoring fan club which did much to boost her battered ego, and with a toss of her hair, she decided that this was what the Big Sister Program in Point Place _should_ have been like, and that she much preferred the Jackie-loving African village girls to snarky-mouthed Donna-loving ones named Colette.

It had become a ritual with Eric and Jackie to take long walks in the late afternoons, when the sun was low and the air was cool. They would head back just as dusk began to fall and arrive at the village as night descended to be greeted by roaring campfires and the scent of roasting meat or fried yams. Meals in the village were largely communal, though it wasn't a rare sight to find smaller groups of people having cozy meals either inside or outside their homes. The villagers loved song and dance, and many a night Jackie and Eric would find themselves sitting by the main campfire and enjoying the laughing and singing and music and the simplicity of life that the people embodied.

* * *

The dream started a little differently this time.

He was already awake and in the center of a raucous mob of people armed with blazing torches who were gathered around the banks of a wide and fast-flowing river. The steady tattoo of drums pounded in time with a monotonous chanting that rose from the crowd.

"i'bakish!" _Please!_ He heard a woman wail helplessly. "Kumi! Kumi!" _Stop! Stop!_

He had a partial view of the wailing woman and saw that she was being held back in the circle of her husband's arms. She looked very weak and he could see the gleam of tears running down her cheeks in the glow of the firelight. She was on her knees, struggling feebly against her husband and cried out hoarsely at a figure by the river till she nearly fainted.

The village shaman stood on a short wooden jetty that extended some ways into the rushing waters of the river. Imposing and forbidding, he was dressed in full ceremonial attire. An elaborate headdress with a long pair of curved horns sat sinisterly on his head, and his face was unrecognizable underneath a complex detail of white paint. A heavy cloak of buffalo hide adorned his shoulders and a loin cloth made out of colorful feathers sat on his hips. He was bare-chested and bare-legged, and what part of his body that was not covered by the loin cloth and the cloak was painted in a swirling mass of intricate patterns. The paint was stark white against his ebony skin and his eyes were hidden under many layers of kohl.

In his arms was a small bundle, and he held it straight out above the murky black rapids below. Despite himself, Eric felt a chill of foreboding.

He stared at the woman. _Why did she look so familiar?_

The chanting of the crowd grew louder and louder and the ball of dread in his stomach started to grow. Baako's hand tightened around his forearm and when Eric glanced at him, he saw that Baako had his head down, a rosary clutched tightly in his fist and his lips were moving fervently in prayer.

Everything seemed to be moving sluggishly for Eric. Sounds were muted and he felt the dull thrum of the chanting crowd and the steady beat of the drums reverberate through his body. He looked slowly at the nearly unconscious woman back to the bundle in the shaman's hands.

All of sudden, with a great _whoosh_ , everything snapped into focus for him. Eric turned to Baako in horror and a rushing started to sound in his ears. _No no no…_

He broke free from Baako's iron grip on his arm and started running to the river edge where the village shaman was.

The tiny bundle in the man's hands moved and let out a keening wail: the cry of a newborn for its mother.

 _No no no!_

Shouts and shrieks rose in the stuffy night air and he heard a loud splash as something was being thrown into the river.

Without a second thought, Eric leapt and dove into the thick and roiling depths of the rushing waters of the river.

* * *

With a violent jerk, he pulled himself awake. Breathing heavily and sweating profusely, he could still hear the thumping of the drums, the chants of the people. The sound of a mother's grieving wails that cut through him, searing itself into his soul.

He covered his eyes with his hand, striving for control, and forced the memories out of his head. He glanced over at Jackie, and was relieved to find her sound asleep. He desperately needed a smoke, but he had kicked the habit when she had arrived, unwilling to let her see the depths to which he had sunk, and finding her very presence to be a more effective balm in soothing his torment.

Like sunshine to the perpetual darkness of his existence.

She made him forget the bad, the cruel, the evil in existence and shone her ever-present light on the good, the giving and the kindness that co-existed along with it.

He got up and quietly moved over to her bedside, and just sat there and watched her sleep. Long lashes formed dusky shadows on her creamy cheeks and she looked angelic in sleep. As always, a form of peace stole over him and he wanted so much to be deserving of her. He reached out a hand to stroke her hair and run a finger down the softness of her cheek. Her lips parted as she blew out a breath and the urge to just lean down and kiss her was great… To inhale the essence of her.

He leaned a little closer and she stirred. Then she mumbled a name that killed something in him.

"Steven…"

Eric drew back harshly and steeled himself against the lash of pain in the region of his heart. He inhaled shakily and got to his feet. His running shoes were right by the door. He grabbed them and bolted out the door.

And ran as if the hounds of hell were at his heels.

* * *

An ominous silence had greeted Eric as he entered the water, drowning out the repetitive beat of the drums. It was pitch black and icy cold. Freezing water had shot up his nostrils and he had fought against the current, diving deeper and grasping around blindly, hoping against hope that the infant had sunk to the riverbed instead of being swept away by the swift-flowing waters.

 _One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand…_

How long had the baby been down there? He pushed himself further down and stretched his arms out wide, sweeping them along the sandy channel. He felt rocks and silt and underwater plants, but no cloth, no baby.

 _Six five thousand… Seven five thousand…_

No baby. Panic kicked in. His lungs were burning, he had to go up for air soon. _Please please please…_

A minute and forty seconds passed. Eric broke through the surface of the water gasping for air. Several pairs of hands grabbed him violently out of the water and dragged him brutally across the craggy bank. They threw him roughly on the rocky ground of the riverside and his skin sliced open. He turned to his side coughing up silty water and sucking in huge breaths of air.

A hard blow to the side of his head left him seeing stars. Blood trickled down his temple as he looked up into the sepulchral eyes of the shaman.

"Murderer," Eric spat out.

The man's eyes glittered and his nostrils flared. "You white man," he hissed. "You know nuh-thing." He spat on the ground next to Eric, and looked to the men that dragged Eric out of the river, barking out orders to them in Amharic. He slipped one of them something and Eric saw the glint of metal flash as the man tucked a large knife into his pants.

The shaman turned and strode away, his heinous cloak floating out around him.

The sound of the drums started again and the dull chanting of the crowd filled the night air.

Hands grabbed at him as Eric struggled to stand. He saw Baako being similarly held back by two men a distance away. He looked frenzied and was gesturing frantically for Eric to stand down.

Another keening wail split the monotonous chant of the mob. It was answered by the high-pitched nasal cries of _another_ baby.

 _Fuck fuck fuck._

Eric vaulted forward and the men lost their hold on him. He tore through a wall of people and was brought bodily to the ground as one of the men slammed into him from behind, knocking the wind out of him. He tried to get up, but was wrested into a strong hold and hauled forcefully to his knees. He struggled wildly, chest heaving with exertion.

"No," panted the man to his right, who was straining against the effort of holding him back.

Eric recognized him. He was about Eric's age, young and hefty, an eager student who was a hard worker in the fields. Eric had worked alongside him on more than one occasion and genuinely liked him.

"Kwame, you cannot do this. Let me go. Please. I have to stop him," Eric pleaded, his eyes frantically scanning the scene in front of him.

He now knew why he found the previous woman familiar, for she had been one of the two pregnant women who went into labor earlier that night. His gaze stopped short on another figure next to the wooden jetty where the shaman was. This new woman was holding on to a man's arm, shrieking crazily. Her gown was stained dark with something wet, and it stuck to her legs as she hobbled forward.

Blood.

A churning started in his stomach as he realized that she was still bleeding from the afterbirth. A soft whimpering sounded from the swaddle of cloths that the man, her husband, was handing to the shaman. Tears streamed from his eyes, but he was stoic and expressionless as he gave over his newborn to the shaman.

Another pair of hands clamped down on Eric's shoulder, forcing him in place. Blood from the wound at his temple flowed into his eyes. Eric growled and wrenched his shoulder out of the man's grip.

"Eric! Please! You mustn't interfere!" he heard Baako shout out.

Eric turned his head and snarled at him.

The shaman started walking slowly towards the end of the jetty. Firelight danced across his face and body, bringing the sinister paintings on his body to life.

Eric had never felt so much hatred for one man before in his life. The woman was now lying across the wooden planks, surrounded by her husband and her family, sobbing hysterically.

The sound of the drums rose to a crescendo, as did the rhythmic chanting of the villagers.

Eric fought like a man possessed. He struggled wildly and desperately kicked out against the three men who held him.

The shaman reached the end of the jetty and held the newborn above the waters. The infant started to cry piteously.

With a feral roar and a savage jerk that almost tore off his own arm, Eric finally wrestled free of the trio. He made for the river in a mad dash, and managed to make it further this time before two of them tackled him to the ground.

He landed heavily, and felt a rib crack, but lashed at them viciously before one of them got him in a chokehold. When he was pulled upright, the third man joined them, and he saw the flash of a blade.

The serrated edge of a hunting knife pressed into the skin under his jaw, forcing his head up.

"No. Do not make it more dee-fficult for everyone," said Kwame. Eric looked at him wild-eyed, and through the haze of desperation and rage and the feeling of utter powerlessness, registered that Kwame's eyes were bright with tears and pain.

"No," he whispered in anguish, "you cannot. Please. _Please…_ "

A loud scream rent the air, followed by the sickening finality of a splash.

Something inside Eric broke and he howled maniacally. He surged forward, and Kwame reacted, the knife slashing deep. Blood poured from the jagged wound, but Eric was past caring and barely felt anything. He strained against the men and battled rabidly to free himself to save the infant. He got one arm loose and rammed an elbow in the face of the man to his left. Blood spurted from his nose, and the man yowled in pain, his hands flying to his face.

Eric pulled his head away and swung at Kwame with his free arm. The blow connected. Kwame fell backwards and the knife was knocked free.

His left arm and leg still held imprisoned, Eric twisted his body and stretched desperately for the knife, moving on pure adrenaline alone. Kwame got up from the ground and reached for it at the same time.

Before either of them could get it, the man with the broken nose clobbered Eric on the head with the base of the ceremonial torch that one of the villagers was carrying. Eric fell to the ground, nearly blinded by the blow to his head.

Something thick and viscous matted his hair to his scalp. Spots of white danced in his vision and he dry heaved on the ground. Blood flowed freely down his neck and seeped into the neckline of his shirt. Eric staggered to his knees and tried to push himself up again. He saw dazedly that Kwame had gotten ahold of the knife.

"Murderers," he grated out.

Kwame walked over to him. He knelt down and spoke in heavily accented English. "You know nuh-thing. Nuh-thing of our practices. We live and die by our beliefs. The land rules us all. These Mingi are a curse. They will cause the suffering of the entire village. You sacrifice two to save the rest. You do not understand. This is not how you help, white man. We thank you for your gift of your white man's language. But do not interfere with what is sacred to us."

"Please…" Eric rasped out again. "I'm begging you… Let me save —."

Kwame shook his head with finality. There was sorrow in his eyes as he brought his hand up and rammed the hilt of the knife across Eric's head. Eric's vision swam and caved. He saw blackness. And knew no more.


	26. Chapter 26

"Okay, so I knead" -Jackie mimed the action— "like this?"

The woman, Afia, nodded her head enthusiastically as she kneaded her own dough on the large stove slash counter top, a pride of hers and the only one in the village made out of a solid grey stone that her husband, Dakarai had built for her. He had been injured in a mining accident miles away two years before and had broken his leg. It had not been set properly, and by the time he had returned home to the village a few weeks later, even Ebele, the village medicine woman, with her skilled hands could not undo the damage that had been done, and he had been left with a pronounced and painful limp.

Afia bent over and took out a handful of flour from the large sack stored neatly under the stone counter, sprinkling it on the counter top, then spread out the dough and pounded on it before using a rolling pin to flatten it.

Jackie copied her every action meticulously.

"Good! Good!" Afia praised her.

Jackie beamed. Cooking — or baking — had never been her forte and she usually detested spending time in the kitchen. But she had noticed that Eric did not care for _ugali_ , a stiff cornmeal porridge, that was a staple starch component of the villagers' diet, though he adored _chapatti_ and could devour a ton of the stuff. It was quite simply, flatbread, though they didn't so much bake it as cook it over a pan, and Jackie thought she'd try her hand at it, and prepare a decent meal for Eric for once.

She had grown quite close to Afia, for they were close in age, although Afia was happily married and already had three children aged three months to seven years old, and Jackie well, Jackie still couldn't quite figure her life out yet. Jackie was drawn to her sunny nature and sincerity, and had even picked up a smattering of Swahili from the time she spent together with her.

"Now, you put it on pan," Afia said, and showed her how to shift the dough to the hot pan.

Jackie did the same to hers and the wonderful smell of bread soon filled the air. She flipped it over to brown the other side then transferred it to a plate on the table. She stared at it, and nearly choked with emotion.

It was perfect.

She bounced on her feet gleefully and danced around the tiny cooking area as her very first attempt at making chapatti was a resounding success.

* * *

As it turned out, her accompanying stew though, was far from what she had envisioned it to be, though it was a decent attempt at a meal for the two of them.

The carrots were overcooked, so they were a little limp. The meat on the other hand was _under_ cooked, so it wasn't as tender as she had hoped it would be.

It was still a fine attempt at a first meal, and she was giddy with excitement when Eric walked in after his morning at the school.

He looked tired; she saw that immediately. And those smudges under his eyes were getting worse by day. Her brow wrinkled briefly in concern.

A boyish grin split his face when he saw the meal she had so painstakingly laid out on the small table for the two of them. Jackie had found an empty Coke bottle that she used as a vase, and in that makeshift vase, she had stuck a single flower.

She skipped over to him. "Come, come. Sit!" she ordered, and tugged him over to the chair and forced him to sit. He sat.

He shook his head in wonder. "You cooked for me?"

"Yep," she said, spooning a ladle full of stew into a dish for him.

"You made _chapatti_ for me?"

She giggled girlishly and wiggled her hands at him. "From scratch."

"You know I like _chapatti_?"

"Eric," she huffed, "I _do_ notice what other people like or don't like at times you know." She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. "I'm not that self-centered," she said and shot him a tiny smile.

Grabbing a fork, she piled about half a dozen _chapattis_ onto his plate and pushed it toward him. "Now eat up! You work too hard."

She kept up a non-stop stream of chatter as Eric shoveled food into his mouth. He had gone another night on two hours of fitful sleep before giving up; lacing up his track shoes instead and tried to run himself to the grave. But sitting there with her, eating her food, he relaxed as she told him about her day, complained about her overcooked carrots, smiled as she recounted what Afia's youngest did that morning, and fussed over him. He couldn't help the warm fuzzy feeling inside as he thought about how she had cooked for him, and that she had noted what he liked and did not like to eat.

They did the dishes together, outside in the slight shade that their hut provided, with a bucketful of water that Eric had hauled up from the village well and carried back for her. She hated getting her hands wet and soapy, so Eric washed and rinsed everything while she dried and put them away.

"It's a good thing I've soap," he said, and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "The other villagers use _sand._ If they know Mom sends me soap, I'll be the most sought-after man in the village. Girls of marriageable age will be lining at my door."

"For _soap_. Really," she said in the driest tones she could manage.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Jackie, you've lots of hair. You'll marry a monkey if it could say 'I Do', if it was holding on to the last bottle of shampoo in the world."

"Huh. So you liken yourself to a monkey."

"No, I'm enlightening you to the mightiness of good, first world soap." He flicked some sudsy water at her. "Consider yourself enlightened."

She squealed and splashed him back with the soapy water.

It took twenty minutes to get the chore done, and they were both a whole lot wetter and soapier than they were when they started, but it was twenty minutes of mindless fun for the both of them.

When he laughed, she had startled for a second at the sound. Then a swell of warmth had hit her from head to toe as she realized that it was the first time she had heard him do so since she came. She rejoiced in it, in the moment, happy that it was she that was sharing it with him. Thus, she had concluded in her usual way that she must be good for him, but deep down inside was just deliriously happy that she was wanted here.

She hadn't been able to look away from him then, and had smiled up into his green eyes, which had been open and clear, and twinkling in merriment; and she committed their exact shade to memory.

* * *

Jackie was humming a soft tune as she helped Eric clean up after school on Friday.

He looked up from the papers he was gathering on his desk as she swept up and danced around with the broom in her hand. The past weeks had been good to her, and the spark that had been missing for the past year ever since her life fell to pieces around her had returned to her eyes.

She looked happy, and he felt something tug at his heart as she twirled around, the pale blue of her skirt flaring out gracefully at her knees. She had similarly colored ribbons in her hair today, which was up in a side ponytail that fell over her shoulder, and the lightness of the color contrasted beautifully with the rich black of her curls.

She stopped when she felt his stare and paused to lean on her broom. She tilted her head to the side and remarked, "Never thought the day would come when I'll actually be _happy_ sweeping."

That prompted a laugh from him and she smiled, glad that she had that effect on him. She had begun to notice more and more differences between the Eric of before and the man that he was now. He smiled less and to hear him laugh was a rarity, though he definitely did more often now than the first few days when she was here.

Sometimes, when he wasn't aware that she was watching him, a haunted look would come into his eyes and he would stare into the distance, but never for long. She would always know the instant when he would pull himself forcefully back and his guard went back up, and he got himself firmly under rein once more.

She knew now that he managed on very little sleep at night, but she never called him out on it, though she worried about him from a distance. As the shadows under his eyes grew more pronounced, she couldn't help wondering if it was because of her presence that he wasn't sleeping well, but the one time that she tentatively sought to ask him if he was sleeping alright he gave her a strained smile and told her not to worry about it.

Eric was plagued by vivid dreams that were always in some way related to Ethiopia. They were now a nightly occurrence, and he was grimly afraid that one day Jackie would wake and see him in the middle of a raging nightmare. He worked himself harder than ever during the day, hoping against hope that through sheer physical exhaustion he would have just one night of dreamless sleep. But so far, his fears have proven unfounded, and Jackie slept like a baby night after night.

There was that one time when he hadn't gotten any sleep at all during the night — the nightmare had hit him hard as soon as he closed his eyes, and she had taken one look at him in the morning and hesitantly asked if she was the cause of his sleepless nights. She _was_ , to a certain extent; he couldn't lie not six feet away from her and not imagine the curves of her body next to his the way he wanted it to be; she just wasn't the real reason for the dark hollows under his eyes. But it had saddened him nevertheless, that she had automatically assumed that she was the cause of his troubles, and he wondered if she would ever be free of the fetters that her destructive relationships with both Hyde and Kelso had laid on her.

He wanted her to be free, to be happy, to always be assured that she was loved no matter what and would never again be alone. To never have to tamp down on her natural inclinations or change who she was just to be secure of a man's love. And he wanted to be that man for her. He wanted to be the one to give it all to her.

"What's wrong, Eric?"

Her voice broke into his musings and the intensity of his gaze startled her. She took a step toward him, with an outstretched hand. "What's wrong, Eric?" she repeated.

Eric lowered his eyes. He hadn't realized that he had been staring at her. He gave a small shake of his head and went back to clearing his desk.

She reached the table and gently placed a hand on top of his, stilling his movements. "Eric."

He looked up then, and his eyes, when they found hers, were dark and brewing. She searched them earnestly, looking for answers and wishing she could read his thoughts.

But he said nothing, and revealed nothing. He blinked once, then twice, and she saw the shutters come back down, locking away his demons once again.

She swallowed her disappointment, and continued to hold his gaze.

"You know that I'm here for you don't you, Eric?"

He smiled at her choice of words, and ran the backs of his fingers down the satin of her cheek. His heart swelled with tenderness for her but it was difficult for him to accept what she was offering. He nodded once to appease her and she stepped back, somewhat satisfied, knowing that that was all she would get out of him at that moment.

It was difficult for him to accept what she was offering, because to Eric, it was much more than what he felt he deserved.


	27. Chapter 27

It had been, perhaps, close to a month after her arrival to Africa.

Something woke Jackie up and she opened her eyes and blinked a few times to orientate herself. And then she heard it again. Rustling covers. A low moan. She looked over to where Eric lay sleeping and was startled when he suddenly started thrashing violently.

"Get off me. Off! You can't! MURDERERS!…."

She ran over to him. "Eric!" She reached out a hand, scared and yet wanting to help him somehow. "Eric!"

She half-screamed when he woke up swinging a fist in the air. Bloodshot and wild, his eyes glittered brightly in the dark room before finally focusing on her scared face.

She had one hand over a mouth and had fallen back onto the ground from where he startled her when he lurched awake. He paled, and an unnamable emotion clawed at him from the inside.

"Shit. Jackie... Are you okay?"

She nodded slowly, eyeing him warily. "Eric, oh my god, I just..." She crawled over to him and knelt beside his mattress on the floor.

He refused to meet her eyes. "Shit, Jackie."

He dragged a hand across his face and reached around to rub hard at his neck, trying to block out the sight of her scared face and trying to block out the screams of the Mingi babies still echoing in his head. He hated this. "Just... Shit."

He dropped his head and clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

She gave him a few moments, and after a while, the tension left his shoulders slightly and he let out a weary sigh. She felt the sound all the way to her bones.

"Eric...," she started, reaching out to entwine her fingers with his. "I —-."

"Sorry you had to see that," he interrupted before she could say anything else.

He hadn't wanted her to see that. It was his burden to bear, and he didn't want to taint her with it. He hadn't wanted to add on to all that she already carried on her slender shoulders. This trip was about her, not him, and he didn't want to ruin that for her.

The warmth of her fingers around his offered a small measure of comfort, and he held on for as long as he dared before pulling back and folding them behind his head as he fell back on the mattress.

"I'm just. I'm sorry."

He sounded so forlorn, and his words were filled with so much self-loathing they tore at her. She placed her hand gently on his jaw to turn his face towards her, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"I'm here, Eric. I'm here."

His eyes were stormy and troubled when she looked into them and there was a deep furrow in between his brows that she longed to soothe away.

"Eric."

She held on to his green gaze as she leaned over and folded their fingers together again, and in that moment made a split decision to crawl into bed with him. She pulled his head onto her lap and smoothed back his short hair.

The soft scent of her teased his senses and he inhaled deeply. It was as close to heaven as he could get. Then she started humming and singing softly.

"On a good ship. Lollipop…"

A small smile started at the corner of his lips as earlier, happier memories assailed him. The images of his earlier nightmare were replaced with happier moments and the wails of drowning infants slowly faded.

"It's a sweet trip… To the candy shop…"

As she lightly massaged his temples and stroked his hair, Eric fell slowly back to sleep again, only this time with memories of a dingy trailer so small, that six people couldn't be in it at the same time.

Jackie continued singing softly till she saw his breathing even out and felt his muscles relax.

"Oh Eric," she whispered, staring down at his sleeping face. "Just what exactly are you fighting?"

* * *

Eric awoke from a deep sleep the next morning in an unfamiliar position. He heard the faint sounds of chopping wood and squawking chickens running around somewhere, and he realized that he had not slept so well in forever.

It took him a moment to register that his head was pillowed on a pair of soft, perfectly formed breasts. A lock of raven hair had fallen forward and was tickling his nose and chin in a most delightful way. Jackie's arms were curled protectively around him. One over his shoulder and resting on the base of his neck, the other on his chest.

He had fallen asleep last night and woken up in heaven. He didn't move; he didn't even dare breathe, he just wanted to stay in this position till the day he died.

Eric had never been one to pussyfoot around his feelings. He had always known what he wanted, and had never been confused about how he felt for anyone. He wasn't like his friends; he had never needed much pushing in any direction, or needed any time to figure out how he felt for a girl, and had known early on, for months even, that he had fallen for Jackie Burkhart.

When it had first started, he had dismissed it as an infatuation, and he had just wanted to enjoy their newfound friendship and the sudden light that she, through her letters, had brought to his life. As he had gotten to know her better, he began to appreciate her wit, her loyalty, her capacity for love, and as the many complex layers that made up her person began to unfurl, the simple infatuation developed into a deep caring which had given way to the beginnings of an illimitable love.

Eric couldn't get her out of his mind; his feelings for her continued to grow and deepen, and he had felt the overwhelming need to hear the sound of her voice.

So he made that first phone call. It cemented the beginning of the end for him, as she had taken on a living, breathing form now, instead of existing only through her letters and her Jackie Boxes. She became real. And he realized that his feelings for her too, were definitely very, very real. And he had wanted Jackie Burkhart with a powerful hunger that he had never known the likes of before in his life.

He knew that her heart belonged to Hyde though. Oh, he knew. And for the first time in his life he had hated his best friend for all that he had and had chosen to throw away.

Jackie stirred, as if she sensed that he was awake, and he brought her hand up to his lips to press a kiss to the soft skin in the middle of her palm.

He didn't want to, but he wanted to save her from feeling awkward waking up in such an intimate position with him so he slid regretfully out of her arms. Cool air hit his side immediately after, and he missed the warmth of her body.

He watched as she slowly came awake in a fluttering of eyelashes, and a parting of rosy lips. She yawned and brought up a slender hand to cover it and then slid further down the bed as she groped blindly for a sheet to burrow under.

Eric reached for the sheet and pulled it up over her. Confused, she opened her eyes and squinted in the morning light. He smiled.

"Morning, sunshine."

She peeked up at him. "Eric. Hey."

Then she gave him an adorably sleepy smile and he felt the familiar tug deep in the center of his heart. He fought the nearly uncontrollable urge to gather her in his arms and kiss her till she was out of breath and gasping his name.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep in your bed," she said, her voice thick with sleep.

"I'm not." He leaned forward to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. "But I _am_ sorry that you had to see that last night."

Jackie's brow furrowed in concern and she pushed herself up on one arm. She placed her other hand on his upper arm, fully awake now.

"What happened, Eric?" she asked softly.

He looked into her captivating eyes and saw the compassion shimmering in their depths. She was so pure, so innocent… An angel. He was amused that he would think that of her when he had once said she was made of hellfire, but she was.

 _His very own angel._ He couldn't taint her with the burden of his soul, and he couldn't stand for her to see him as he really was.

A coward. A failure. Less than a man. A pansy-ass boy.

 _So much conflict. So much pain._ Jackie saw it all reflected in the crystal green of his gaze and felt his torment all the way to her heart. _Oh Eric._ She moved her hand up to lay it against his stubble-roughened cheek. She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything.

Instead, she held his gaze and let his eyes search hers, letting him know all that she was feeling inside, her want to help him, her support. She was unsure if he could understand, but desperately hoped that he would.

Eric leaned into her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. He looked into them and understood what she was offering and he was overwhelmed by it.

 _His very own angel._

He covered her hand with his own and nodded. Then lowered his head and closed his eyes, praying to whatever God was out there that perhaps one day, he would be worthy enough for her to love him back.


	28. Chapter 28

"Crap. I'm out."

"What do you mean 'you're out'?"

"I mean, I'm out. I forgot to put more in my wallet."

Donna sat up violently and snatched the wallet from him, rifling through the compartments to be sure. When she was sure that he really was out, she threw the wallet back at him. It landed with a smack on his bare chest.

"Jeez, Randy! The _one_ night when we've got the house to ourselves you _forgot to bring condoms_?!

He scratched his head, unsure how to proceed. "Uh, yeah. But don't, you know, _you_ have any?"

"Randy!" she glared at him. "It's always been _your_ responsibility to..." she trailed off, remembering that she did have a couple lying deep in her drawer somewhere back from her days when she and Eric couldn't keep their hands off each other. "Desk drawer, dark corner in the far left," she instructed him.

He gave her a cheeky smile and leapt off the bed to get them.

Donna flopped back on her bed and stared at the ceiling, hearing him moving things around in her drawer. "You found them?" she called.

Randy didn't answer her, and she frowned. She opened her mouth to ask again when she saw what had him all quiet. She froze.

He looked at her gravely. "Donna?" He looked down at the sheaf of letters and pictures and the two rings from another life in the middle of his palm. "You told me you'd gotten rid of them."

 _Shit._ Donna stared at the items in his hands wordlessly, and the fingers that were gripping the sheet to her breasts turned white. She looked back up at Randy, wondering how she could explain. She forced a nonchalant laugh.

"I must've forgotten to," she said lamely. "Here, give them here, I'll throw them out now." She stretched a hand out for them.

He shook his head and looked at her again. "It isn't because you still have them. It's just..." -he looked a little lost as he placed them back on the table- "why did you lie?"

Donna had no answer for that. She just knew that she couldn't throw away the rings Eric had given her as proof of his love.

One Promise ring. And one Engagement ring.

Rings that stood for a vow of a future together.

A lifetime with him.

She lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. "I don't know," she told him.

Donna had struggled with her relationship with Randy. She loved that he was so different from Eric and yet she hated that he wasn't anything at all like him.

She had intended to throw out everything that Eric had given her in all their years together, but when the time came, she found that she couldn't. She had gone through the trash just to retrieve them again.

All of it, including The Breakup Letter. And had them stashed away in the deepest corner of her drawer and forgot about it all, until today. Randy hadn't asked her to dump Eric's stuff, but she had told him that she had. Up till now she had no idea why she had done so.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

His smile was sad, but he made no comment. Just walked over to her bed and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She leaned into him and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "S'okay."

She hid a watery smile. Randy was such a good guy. In all respects, he was more of a catch than Eric was, even Eric's own father seemed to think so.

So she was having a little trouble letting go of her scrawny first love. But that was to be expected, wasn't it? She was sure it was just a phase. One that didn't mean anything at all.

She pushed Eric out of her mind and fused her lips with Randy's in a hot kiss, pulling him down towards her on the bed.

* * *

Jackie sat absently brushing her hair at the small vanity that Eric had taken a whole week to piece together for her; one item at a time. He brought home the little table when he had bartered his time to fix the falling roof off one of the villager's huts and had managed to get the stool from a woodworker in the village who was returning a favor.

She had gotten up about twenty minutes ago and didn't see Eric in their hut. Their friendship had deepened ever since he had had that nightmare almost a week ago, and though he had made no mention of that night since, Jackie had heard enough and seen enough that one time to chance a rough guess at what he was trying so hard to hide.

She was afraid — of the terrible truths he was guarding, and for him as well. The possibility that she wouldn't be able to help him in any way at all terrified her.

Giving her appearance one last check, she put her brush down, and headed out the door to look for him in the village. The heat hit her as she left the cool confines of their little dwelling and as she walked pass, several people offered her smiles and called out 'Jambos' in greeting.

Jackie stopped by one of the neighboring huts for a quick chat with the mother of one of Eric's students. She accepted a cup of strong black tea and mentioned that she was looking for Eric.

"He be at da schoolyard. Wer-king."

Jackie frowned, not quite understanding. She had been to the schoolhouse several times and never noticed a schoolyard. But she nodded anyway, thanked the woman for the tea, and headed off in the direction of the schoolhouse. The woman called her back.

"No, no," she said amusedly. "Not school. School _yard_. It be over in dat way," she said as she pointed in another direction, "there. You walk un-teel you see Ebele's hut, then you turn this way." She indicated 'Right' by waving her right hand.

Jackie smiled and thanked her again. Everyone knew where Ebele lived. Being the only healer in the village, and it would be to your advantage to memorize the way to her hut blindfolded. If you were to consider the fact that the way of life in a village was fraught with mishaps and with the nearest modern medical facility a plane ride away, Ebele was definitely your best bet.

She took the longer route looking for Eric, and dallied along the way to buy some food for him. She realized that the schoolyard that he was working on wasn't anywhere near the actual school, and was located off the village perimeter, adjacent to where the crop fields were.

She spotted him almost immediately when she turned the corner, and stopped short, for whatever she had expected to see him doing in this 'schoolyard', she had not expected to see him _building_ one.

And building one he definitely was.

A newly constructed low retaining wall had blocked off three sides of a large square area, and a series of deep troughs in the shape of an 'S' had been dug in the hard ground.

She watched a shirtless Eric throw down his shovel as he pitched the last bit of earth out of the last trough in the 'S'.

The sun blazed down on his dark head and picked up hints of dark gold in his short hair. He brushed sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, and headed towards a heap of thick, huge, rubber tires; old ones that used to belong to a large truck or similar, piled haphazardly far off the side of the square. The muscles in his back rippled as he hauled one off the ground and slung it over his shoulder in one strong move. He turned slightly and heaved another one up with his other arm, carrying the both of them back to where the line of hollows were in the yard.

Jackie couldn't help herself, her mouth fell open.

She remembered how he used to buckle under the weight of mere boxes of her clothes when he helped her move in with Donna. She remembered the last time she had seen Eric without his shirt on had been years ago, when they had all gone skinny dipping together in the lake. She had been with Michael then, and Eric had made no impression whatsoever on her.

Now though, she found that she could hardly keep her eyes off him; her brain finally registering changes that she refused to accept before. For this was _Eric,_ her friend. Steven's best friend. The love of Donna's life. Geeky, scrawny, twitchy Eric. But the man standing in front of her couldn't be further from the boy that she had grown so used to seeing in her mind's eye.

Eric would never be beefy and bulky, but what he was, was whipcord lean, and she found him sexy as hell. He had always been tall to her, and while his shoulders had never been his best feature before, toiling away for more than a year had packed them with sinew, and they had finally filled out to fit his long frame. Veins ran down the length of his well-muscled arms and her eyes raked unabashedly down his hard form, taking in the ridges on his stomach and the sculpted planes of his chest. She followed a dark line of hair from his navel that disappeared into the waistband of his low-slung jeans and felt a heat low in her belly that she couldn't ignore.

He dropped the tire he had in one arm, and it fell to the ground with a heavy thump. Then he hoisted the other off his shoulder to drop it vertically into the hole he just dug. He went back for two more tires, gripping them by the rim and lugged back one in each hand. Back and forth he went, hauling two at one go until all the hollows in the ground were filled. Then he picked up his shovel again and dug it in the pile of dirt that he had previously unearthed, pitching it back in to the troughs to anchor the tires firmly into the ground.

The tires stood half buried in the ground, and Jackie saw that he was creating a sort of balancing beam, or a series of stepping stones, for the kids to climb on top of.

Something must have alerted him to her presence, for he stopped digging suddenly to turn around and scan the line of huts at the edge of the village behind him. He spotted her immediately, and a smile broke across the tan of his face.

Jackie's own smile was just as bright and she realized that she was giddily happy to see him, and that she had actually _missed_ him in the short time that they were apart. She shook her head dismissing the thought and was soon jogging over to where he was.

"Hey you."

"Hey," she smiled up at him, feeling shy all of a sudden. She looked around for something to say to him when she remembered that she had brought him food. She held up the cloth-wrapped bundle in her hands and waved it in front of him. "Look, I brought you breakfast!"

Eric chuckled and threw her a look. "Jackie, it's close to noon."

She pouted prettily. "Why didn't you wake me this morning?"

He shrugged disarmingly and said, "Nah, you looked so peaceful, I couldn't wake you." He changed the subject and pointed to her bundle. "What did you get? Cos I'm starving."

She unwrapped it to reveal the puffy triangles of _mandaazi_ , a semi-sweet fried dough that she had developed quite a fondness for. His hands were covered with dust and dirt, so she took one out and brought it to his mouth.

He took a huge bite and mumbled his thanks. Jackie ate the remainder of his half-eaten _mandaazi_ and Eric narrowed his eyes at her. She grinned and took out another, offering it to him. This time he bit on to the whole thing and pulled it out of her hands with his mouth.

"Pig!"

He swallowed and accepted the bottle of water she handed him. "Never come between a starving man and his food."

He took a long swig of water and dunked the rest over his head in an effort to cool off. He gave his head a hard shake and sent droplets of water flying everywhere. She yelped and laughed and then reached up shyly to finger the sun-bleached ends of his hair.

"Looks like someone's been spending a lot of time outdoors."

A small smile twitched at the corner of his mouth, and he said, "It'll be hard not to. Look around you. Everything is outdoors."

She gave a slight nod, appreciating the simple truth in his statement. She looked around her and placed her hands on her hips.

"So. You're building this?" she asked.

Eric drove the head of the shovel into the ground and leaned on it slightly. He followed the direction of her eyes and and nodded an affirmative.

"Yep."

He bent over and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on before jamming a hat lying near on his head. "C'mon," he said, "I'll show you what I've got going here."

They walked together as he explained. "The idea is basically the same, I wanted a safe place outside of school where the kids can have fun and learn at the same time. They haven't really got a proper place to play, you know, and I thought, why not build one for them?"

Jackie passed a section on the ground where someone had marked with deep grooves on the ground.

"What's this?" she asked and pointed to the markings.

Eric looked over at what got her attention. "A diagram," he said. "My plans for a climbing frame that I want to build."

He walked over to where he had scratched a large square in the ground. "Here, see," he squatted down and pointed to it, "this is where I'm gonna build a play tower. It'll have three open sides, and it's gonna be about six feet tall, with a cargo net leading up to the platform on one side, a slide on the other and stairs on the third side."

He got up and walked over to the other deep grooves in the ground, patiently describing to Jackie his ideas and intentions.

She was impressed. She had never seen anyone build playground equipment from scratch before. She had existed in a world where Daddy or Mommy handed over cash, and things just magically appeared where she wanted them to.

"It looks like it's going to be hard work," she commented to Eric.

He was still staring at his drawing on the ground but looked up when she spoke. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

"Yeah, but it's worth the effort, so…" he trailed off as he noticed the reddening tip of her nose and frowned.

"Should have told you to bring a hat or something," he muttered. "The sun's pretty brutal."

He took his hat off his head and placed it on hers, adjusting it so it didn't fall over her eyes. "There," he said, "much better."

She was strangely touched at the gesture. She felt…

Cherished.

* * *

In between helping with the farming and the never-ending odd jobs around the village, Eric worked at his schoolyard. There was always one or two of the men in the village who would help him with it at any given time, but it was mostly his work and his project.

He would leave the village from time to time and would always take Jackie with him as he drove to the city center or other more well-developed areas nearby to look for building materials or scrap metal that would work in the yard. He showed Jackie the plans that he had drawn up for his project, and she helped by offering one or two novel ways of adapting the playground to the children's tastes.

He enjoyed having her around him, and made it a point to include her in his comings and goings. Except when he was teaching, although Jackie found herself sitting in on his classes on more than one occasion. Mostly though, Jackie would involve herself in the lives of the village women, and to her surprise, learnt that she had an ear for languages, and was learning new words and forming rudimentary sentences so quickly that if given the chance, she could _nearly_ eclipse Eric's grasp of Swahili, even with his year-long head start.

She loved spending time with with Afia in particular, and was learning new recipes that she added daily to a notebook which was fast running out of pages. She thought that the baby, Desta, with his drooling, gummy smiles, was simply adorable, and Afia's elder son and daughter thought her the prettiest thing they had ever seen, and pretty much worshipped the ground she walked on.

She learnt something new everyday, and Africa seemed to be bringing out a side of her that she never knew existed.

She kneaded dough with the women, fried root vegetables with the women, hung out laundry with the women, but firmly drew the line at collecting eggs with the women. She was terrified of the clucking chickens, and no amount of teasing and cajoling by the women could ever convince Jackie to touch something that came out of a chicken's butt.

"I'm never eating eggs again," she declared over dinner one night, "or anything to do with chickens."

She stabbed at her plate viciously and gave Eric a look that dared him to contradict her. "I hate them."

Another vicious stab. "I'm boycotting them."

There was a glint in his green gaze as he said, "That's a bold statement to make. That means you'll be giving up, hmmm let's see. Cookies. Cakes. Pancakes. Brownies. Scrambled eggs."

He flashed her a wicked grin. " _Mandaazi_. All the things you love." He brought a forkful of roasted meat to his mouth. "Are you sure about that?"

She glared daggers at him.

He had been on his way home earlier that evening with _despicable_ timing, and caught her in the middle of a running frenzy, flapping her arms and screaming her head off in sheer panic; terrified of the squawking brood of hens hot on her tail, convinced she was going to be pecked to death because she had wrongly gotten in the way in the middle of their feed.

She was nursing a grudge with him for laughing at her predicament. For she had shrieked at him to save her and had expected him to show _some_ chivalry and whip out a gleaming sword to slay them chickens, but he had failed miserably on both counts.

He leaned over and to brush her nose lightly with a finger, and pointed to her plate. "Just so you know, that's roast chicken you're having for dinner now."

Her eyes flashed fire and she willed them to incinerate him.

He lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "Just sayin'."


	29. Chapter 29

A tall tree grew on a slight rise nearby the site where Eric was building the school yard. It was majestic and graceful, a dark shape on the horizon casting long shadows on the ground before it.

Jackie learnt that it was an Acacia, or Umbrella Thorn tree, for its umbrella-shaped canopy and the many needles that grew along the branches far above. It was most beautiful when in bloom: during the summer months of December through March, with tiny cream flowers growing in clusters amidst the thorns and among the green of the leaves.

Jackie threw a coarsely woven blanket on the sandy ground and settled herself under the sprawling branches of the tree. A slight breeze blew by, carrying the delicately aromatic scent of the blooming flowers above. It was her favorite spot to be, and she would spend it writing and doodling in her journal, or simply watching Eric as he worked. She enjoyed watching him; his easy confidence and natural charm as he bantered with whomever was helping him that day.

Today, he and two others had gone a little off-site towards the edge of the woods, where towering tropical trees grew to get wood suitable for the yard. He had asked if she wanted to come along, to get closer to the action, but she had declined, perfectly happy where she was. She could still see him as the village was conveniently situated where the villagers could go gathering in the forest for fruits and such, and watched as he chose a sturdy evergreen that he deemed satisfactory for his project.

He was giving out orders, she could see, to ensure the safety of his two companions, and based on the look of concentration on his face as he considered the height and width of the trunk, she guessed that he was calculating where the tree would fall and where to land the first hack.

Apparently satisfied, he gestured to the two men to stand clear and swung a menacing-looking ax above his head. It cut the air in a graceful arc and landed cleanly about a foot from the base of the tree.

It was a hot day, but the heat coursing through her veins could not entirely be attributed to the weather. At some point he had abandoned his shirt and Jackie found it difficult to look away. This newfound attraction that she had for Eric was confusing to her, as were her feelings about him, and she had tried to hide it as best as she could so far.

It took them about three hours, and by the time the tree was felled, dusk had thrown long shadows on the ground and Jackie was wrapping up her blanket and strolling over to where Eric was. He saw her coming and met her halfway, accepting the water that she handed out to him. He was sweaty and filthy, covered with wood splinters and had smudges of dirt on his face.

She thought he looked good enough to eat.

It had been a long time since she had felt such an attraction to a man other than Steven, and she wondered what was with her that she seemed to be drawn to dirty, scruffy men.

She averted her eyes and looked towards the tree he had brought down.

He followed her glance and answered her thoughts. "Tomorrow I'll come and chop it up into logs."

She nodded vaguely as the breeze shifted and she caught a whiff of him: the clean scent of wood and something inherently male.

Unable to help herself, she reached up to lay a hand on his jaw, and used her thumb to rub off a streak of dirt, enjoying the feel of his stubble under her fingers.

His eyes registered surprise, but his body responded to her instantaneously, and he leaned into the palm of her hand.

He remembered how skittish she was the last time he had gotten too close to her, and unwilling to scare her off if she knew the true extent of his ardor, he willed his arms to remain by his side, instead of where they wanted to go around the curve of her waist to pull her body into his.

But he couldn't control his own need to be near her, and he stepped in closer till she was forced to lean her head back to look into his eyes and they were breathing the same air.

His senses were full of her: the rise and fall of her breasts, the mesmerizing brown of her large eyes, the heat of her hand still on his jaw. The sweetness of her breath lingered in the air between them and he breathed it in; and a bolt of lust so intense blazed through his body and it was all he could do not to haul her bodily off into the woods and pound into her mercilessly till she was screaming his name.

Jackie realized subconsciously that she was stroking the corner of his mouth with the pad of her thumb. She was lost in the green of Eric's eyes, riveted as they flared with a raging heat that turned them a stormy grey, and for a moment she was paralyzed into inactivity. She could hear the pounding of her heart and she knew the exact instant when Eric lost the tight hold he had over himself. Her body tingled with anticipation, but the second she saw his lips part and move towards hers, some feeling that this was wrong spurred her into motion and she wrenched her hand away as if she had been burned. She cradled her wrist to her chest and took a step back, looking blindly around for something else to focus on.

Disappointment burned in his gut and he tasted something bitter on his tongue. He shut his eyes and looked away for awhile to quash the feeling of defeat. Tugging on the t-shirt slung over his shoulder, he wiped his face, leaving dark stains on the white material.

When he could finally look at Jackie again, he had himself firmly back under iron control. He reached out to lay a finger lightly on her nose and she turned to meet his eyes in trepidation.

He forced a smile to his lips. "C'mon, let's go get something to eat. I'm starving."

She nodded gratefully and quickened her strides to match his as he strode off towards the village. Timidly, she reached out to slide her hand in his, and felt a weight lift off her shoulders as he folded his fingers around hers in return.

She didn't deserve him, she thought, as she studied the line of his profile as he walked beside her. Even as she thought that, another rose unbidden. But how could she do without him?


	30. Chapter 30

It had been weeks since any of the gang had seen Jackie; and what was once six was now down to three.

The three of them sat spread out across the sitting area in Eric Forman's basement:

One on his chair by the deep freeze, with three empty cans of beer at his feet.

One arms folded and legs crossed, all by herself on the couch.

And the last one with his face in a dirty magazine by the basement door.

A lewd giggle would emanate from the one by the door from time to time, breaking an alien silence that had never before been part of the basement atmosphere. Back then anyway — when there had been six.

Two of the three would never admit it, but the sudden disappearance of Jackie weighed more heavily than they had anticipated, but in differing ways to the both of them.

The sweet smell of something baking wafted down from the kitchen, and the three of them latched on to it like bloodhounds.

"Smell that?" Hyde asked and crushed the can of his fourth beer in his fist. He threw it under his chair.

"Yeah," answered Donna, looking up towards the stairs.

"Mmmm, cookies," said Fez, magazine forgotten and he leapt up and bounded towards the stairs.

And then there were two.

* * *

Fez was pouting in the kitchen with his hands on his hips.

"But Ms. Kitty, why didn't you make Fez's favorite kind with the M&Ms?"

"Now, dear, you can have some of these instead," Kitty answered, as she carefully sorted the cookies in two different piles to cool.

"But, those are _Eric's_ favorite," he grumbled as he poked at one. "Chocolate sprinkles are not _real_ chocolate," he whined and looked cursorily at the other pile. "And no chocolate in these here at _all_."

He grabbed one and looked at it closely. "What's this one anyway, Ms. Kitty?"

"Macadamia nut," she said absently and looked up as he put it back. She frowned disapprovingly. "No honey, you touched it, you eat it."

"But I don't even like macadamias," he complained. "Those are Yackie's favorite kind."

There was a sudden silence as Kitty jerked her head up, wide-eyed.

Their eyes met.

A moment passed, then two.

Fez's eye brow twitched. Something clicked in his head. His eyes grew wide and he gasped loudly.

He pointed a finger at Kitty. "You know!"

Her hand flew to her chest as she stared at him in indignation. " _You_ know?" she asked in a loud whisper, an affronted expression firmly on her face.

"Of course I know! I live with her! She swore me to secrecy," he hissed back.

Kitty huffed. "So did he!"

She paused to consider the accuracy of her statement, and then retracted as she reached for a letter in her apron pocket.

"Well, actually what he said was: 'Mom, Jackie's in Africa. She doesn't want anyone to know.'" —she looked at Fez from beneath her brows— "He underlined _that_ part hahaha." Glancing back at the letter in her hand, she continued reading Eric's words out loud, "'She misses cookies, send some along with mine please.'"

Kitty re-folded the letter. "Well then," she said and looked up to find Fez dragging a shoe across the ground guiltily.

"Ai," he said uncomfortably, looking at something behind her.

She turned around slowly and reluctantly, to find Hyde and Donna staring at her with identical expressions of stunned disbelief.

"Jackie's in _Africa_?!" Donna yelled.

"Looks like _everyone_ knows now," Fez muttered.

Kitty looked from Donna to Steven and back to Donna again.

"Um," she said. "Ah-hahahhaha!"

* * *

"Jackie? Hey look what I—"

Eric stopped mid-sentence as he walked into their hut clutching a small bouquet of flowers only to find it empty. A trader had stopped by the village earlier in the day with a cart loaded with freshly cut roses. They were beautiful, an intense orange with red edges that reminded him of the sun. He had bought a bunch without hesitation, for he had sensed that something had been troubling Jackie for the last couple of days and he wanted to cheer her up.

She had lunch on the table ready for the both of them, but she wasn't there waiting for him like she usually was. He placed the flowers on the table and went out back to see if she was there.

Twenty minutes later, he had scoured the entire village and the usual places where she might be at this hour and came up empty. No one had seen her since breakfast this morning when she had walked him to the school building like they always did. Eric was beginning to worry, but then he remembered her Thorn tree.

He found her huddling figure at the base of the sprawling tree, and even from the distance, he could tell that she was distraught. He crossed the distance in brisk strides and bent over her form with deep concern.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

She looked up at him with a devastated look on her face.

Eric squatted down and pulled her into his arms. "Jackie. What's wrong."

There was a long pause and she battled with how to tell him her news. Then, in barely a whisper, she said, "I'm late, Eric."

Eric froze. A searing pain almost knifed him in two at her words. Jealousy, white and hot, flooded his being and he could barely breathe.

Jackie felt him tense and instinctively held on harder. She began talking, a string of words pouring forth in a jumble, explaining how she was never regular, but this time she was really, _really_ late.

She looked at him to find his gaze fixed resolutely at a point in the horizon. His jaw was taut and the arms that he had around her were rigid with tension. She clutched at his arms, desperate for him to say something, anything.

"Hyde?" he finally asked.

He felt her nod, the top of her head brushing his chin.

He felt bile rise up the back of his throat and ruthlessly forced it back down. He willed himself to focus on the girl in his arms and not the sick swirl of unnameable emotions eating at his gut.

"I slept with him a few days before I came to Africa," she said brokenly. "It was after Sam left. He needed me. And I… I just love him so much."

Eric visibly flinched at her words.

"I'm so worried," she cried out. "What am I going to do?"

It took almost all that he had to say it. But somehow, he managed to force it out.

"Don't worry, Jackie. I'm here," he said quietly, and as he said it, he knew he meant every word. He brought a hand up to stroke her hair as she sobbed in his arms. His voice was low and thick with meaning as he repeated, "I'm here. Always."

* * *

When her period came two days later, Jackie was sobbing with relief. She found Eric and flew into his arms, slobbering and blubbering and generally not making much sense.

Startled, he ran his hands about her form to check for injuries and when he was certain she was fine, held her till she calmed down and finally made out what she was babbling about.

More relieved than he let on, he asked, "So you're not pregnant?"

"No, thank God," came a muffled croak from his shoulder.

He expelled a breath. "O-Kay." His arms tightened about her and he rested his chin on top of her head for several seconds.

He rubbed his cheek against her hair and asked softly, "And you're okay?"

Jackie bobbed her head a couple of times in response.

Eric dropped a kiss on her head. He hesitated before he spoke.

"So, um, perhaps I could get back to teaching then?"

She looked up from where she had soaked a puddle in his shirt to find twenty pairs of eyes staring at her with varying degrees of fascination. Her cheeks flamed and she raised her hand in a feeble wave.

"Good morning, Miss Jackie!" they chorused.

She gave them all a watery smile, then turned and swept out of the classroom with as much dignity as she could muster.


	31. Chapter 31

The crop fields surrounded the village on three sides, and the time soon came to plow the fields again to prepare for the planting of the next crop.

Eric had told her that the harvesting stage was backbreaking work, the ripened shoots having to be taken down with cradle scythes, one by one and row after row until all the fields were clear, but from what she was observing, it seemed that at no point was crop growing an easy task at all.

It was midday, and the both of them had just enjoyed a hearty lunch that Jackie had painstakingly prepared, and Eric had made his way to the crop fields, a long shovel and rake in hand.

She had stared, bemused, when he had grabbed them from where they had been resting by the side of the door but quietly followed him when he indicated she do so, curious as to what other side of him would be revealed to her now.

And reveal itself it had. They weaved in and out the other similar thatch-roofed, mud-walled circular dwellings that belonged to the other villagers, along a path that Eric and the other villagers had set. She followed him all the way down to the fields, uncaring as her shoes were scuffed with dirt and the sun beat down on her head.

A change in the texture and color of the soil marked the edge of the crop fields, and Eric automatically placed his hat on her head and then stomped on the dirt on the ground. He shoved his spade forcefully into the ground, unearthing about two and a half feet of the soil before turning to her with a smile.

"This here is topsoil. It's good, it's rich and we are incredibly fortunate that our luck has held so far and we've got about thirty inches of quality soil."

"Thirty inches is good?"

He nodded. "On a down season, you might get less than five inches, and it will not make for a good crop. Not enough nutrients to feed the plant. And sugarcane is a _massive_ plant."

She understood. "Ah. You're plowing the fields."

He looked at her and grinned. "Yep. I dig up the soil and turn it over. At the same time breaking up these clods you see here," -he nudged at a clump of earth with his foot- "and loosening the soil to improve aeration. You can call it tillage, and it helps the roots of the plant to grow more easily, which makes for a better plant."

She looked across at the now clear fields stretching far into the horizon. They seemed suddenly a lot more vast than she had previously thought them to be. "Oh my God," she blurted out. "You do this by hand?! With _those_ pathetic tools?"

He laughed. He couldn't help it. He found her adorable with the incredulity on her face and her eyes as wide as saucers.

"About sums it up. We all do it. We've got more arable land here, so it'll take us half a month, maybe slightly less. The faster we work, the faster the crop goes in, and we don't wanna take too long or the season will change and the saplings won't grow properly."

She stared at his primitive rake and shovel, and lifted her eyes to scan the never ending _vastness_ of the fields, noting dots here and there where the men have already gotten to work. She looked at him again, eyes darting back and forth between him, his tools, and the fields. "Eric, this is unbelievable. And you've done this before?"

He adjusted the hat on her head to properly shade the tip of her nose. "Yeah. The first time it was hard, but the crop rotates every three to four months, so this would make it about my third or fourth time doing this."

He lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "It's okay, you get used to it. I'm an old hand now," he said and shot her charming grin.

She shook her head in disbelief, still stunned at the sheer amount of labor that he subjected himself to on a daily basis. She stepped back suddenly and ran her eyes over his muscled frame with new eyes and no small amount of respect.

"I'm beginning to understand now," she murmured.

And she did. As sexy as she found him now, what really got her was that he hadn't gotten like this from vanity, or from pumping iron at leisure in an indoor gym.

He had used his body, used it and pushed it, and it had responded, being honed thus because of his desire to help the people, to ease their workload, better their livelihood and shoulder their burden.

It was easy to see why he was loved here and her admiration for him grew even further.

 _God, he was something else._ She lowered her eyes, feeling a sudden surge of emotion for him that she could barely contain. She thought about all he had done and accomplished and given up, for the people here, his family, his friends and her, and was staggered by it all. _He's amazing. He's the most amazing man I know._

He frowned a little, puzzled at what she had said and her reaction, but brushed it off when someone hailed his attention. He shouted back an answer in rapid Swahili and the man nodded in reply.

"Okay. Gotta work now," he murmured distractedly. He turned back to her with a small smile. "Be good and don't stay out in the sun too long. Your skin's delicate and not used to it yet."

She laughed, touched again at his concern. She reached up to place his hat back on his head but he stopped her with a shake of his head.

"You hang on to it. Knowing you, you'll probably hang around nearby till I'm done for the day." He looked slightly troubled at that, and looked around for a shady area she could sit under.

He spotted her tree and pointed to it, "Not too far off, is it?"

She looked over and shook her head in agreement. "Now that you're certain I won't burn the top layer of my skin off under this sun, take this back will you?" She plonked his hat on his head. "So I won't have to worry about you getting heat stroke."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips and on impulse, he snagged one of her hands as she turned to go.

He didn't know why he did so, but he was reluctant to let her leave just yet and couldn't resist pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist in goodbye. Her skin was warm against his lips and he felt her pulse leap at his touch.

"See you later," he said huskily.

Jackie couldn't tear her eyes away from his green gaze. She managed a weak nod before he let go of her wrist and it fell limply to her side. She watched him stride off to join the others; the imprint of his lips on her wrist burning through her skin and setting her whole body afire.

* * *

They were enjoying a quiet evening together. Eric was sitting at the wooden table where they also had their meals grading papers by the light of a kerosene lamp. The air outside was damp, and the village had been expecting a heavy storm all day.

Lightning flashed and across the table, Jackie tensed. She didn't like storms. She forced herself to continue what she was doing: chronicling the goings-on of the village and contemplating how she could provide to ease their way.

Thunder sounded and this time she jumped. Eric looked up from his work.

"You're afraid?" he asked.

She nodded weakly. "A little," she said.

He contemplated her, shifting his gaze to the storm outside. "Come with me," he said quietly.

He pulled her up by her hand and led her to the door. The fringe of the thatched roof provided them a little shelter from the rain pouring outside, and they sat on a crude little bench just under it with their backs to the rough mud of the outside wall.

Stray splashes of water hit them from the cascade coming down in front of them, and Jackie pulled her knees up to her chest on the bench. It didn't seem to bother Eric though, and he had a far off look in his eye as he stared out at the heavy downpour before him.

And then he spoke.

"The people here love rain. Rain is.. _. Life_." A pause, then, "Look." He pointed to the red of the wet ground before them. "It seeps into the earth. And from it, life sprouts."

Raising his hand, he pointed past all the huts of the village, and indicated the crops in the far off field. "The crops drink it. The rain feeds them. It's a wonderful thing - rain. It wipes the slate clean. Washes away the dirt and dust and just like that, everything becomes sharper, clearer… and cleaner."

Lulled by the soothing cadence of his voice, Jackie looked, and she saw.

The rain continued to pour down all around them.

"Close your eyes. Listen. I love the sound of rain. It's like music." A distant clap of thunder sounded and Eric whispered, "That's the drums. A thunderstorm is it's very own orchestra."

A flash of lightning split the sky. "Complete with visual effects too." He turned to grin at her.

She opened her eyes and giggled.

"A lot of your ABBA tracks really sound like this, you know."

Jackie turned to him with an eyebrow raised in wry amusement.

"No? Okay well," he started ticking them off his fingers. "Man after Midnight. Fernando." He paused for a breath. "Dancing Queen. Lots of crashing and banging going on there."

He opened his palms. "Just like this."

Jackie couldn't help herself. She laughed.

Eric smiled at her. "Ah. But the most wonderful part of it is this. Breathe it in."

Jackie looked at him. His eyes were closed and he had both hands on his knees. He took a deep breath and exhaled. She observed him for a couple more seconds before she closed her eyes and did the same. _Inhale. Exhale._

It was several seconds before he spoke again. "I feel like it cleanses me. It cleanses me on the inside. Takes away my fears. My… Guilt… My regrets. And washes it away. 'Cos it is so clean, you know, so _pure_ … that it can only come from all that is good in this world.

"And... even after the rain stops. The smell of it remains. You can smell it on the leaves of the trees. The earth beneath our feet. The crops in the field. The grass in the meadow... The smell of it, it lingers. And until the sun comes out and it all dries up..." —a smile so faint it barely made it past his lips— "…I can feel all that is good in this world."

He took another deep breath and held it in before he expelled it again. "And that is why I love the rain."

They sat together for a long while, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, hand in hand. Watching and listening and breathing everything in together as the rain poured ceaselessly around them.

Her head found its way to the nook in his neck and along with the rain she smelled wood and spice and earth. It was a wonderful scent — soothing and comforting, and Jackie once again found the peace that had deserted her so long ago, and felt the many broken pieces of her heart start to come together again.


	32. Chapter 32

Three weeks later saw Hyde, Donna and Fez in the exact same positions they were in the day they found out that Jackie and Eric were together in Africa.

"Can't fuckin' believe this," Hyde growled from his chair.

He was slurring and Donna could smell the alcohol off his breath from where she was sitting on the couch. Lost in her own thoughts, she looked over at him and noticed his slovenly appearance for the first time.

"Jeez, Hyde. When was the last time you took a shower?" She wrinkled her nose.

He ignored her and slugged from the can in his hand. "Been almost two frickin' months. They've hardly got elect…electricity. Why the hell'd she even go to the goddamn place."

He swiped at his mouth with his sleeve. "Stupid bitch," he said nastily.

Donna was taken aback, and even Fez frowned disapprovingly.

"Hyde, look. I don't like that she's with Eric either, but you've got to lay off the venom." She took a breath and decided to take the plunge. "It could be one of the reasons why she left in the first place," she said evenly.

"Oooh," Fez sucked in a breath through his teeth.

He leaned towards Donna while keeping his eyes fixed on Hyde. "You should not have said that!" he hissed at her, then added as an afterthought, "Although it is kinda true." His eyes flicked nervously to Hyde.

Hyde let out a mirthless laugh and his expression grew murderous. He and Donna tended to side together on most things and they hardly ever disagreed. He therefore took her statement as a personal affront.

"You," he extended a finger from the four that were wrapped around his beer and pointed it at Donna, "get off your high horse. You didn't give a crap 'bout her when Sam was around either."

Donna uncrossed her arms jerkily and sat forward. "I did that for you! I was trying to be supportive!"

Hyde snorted. "Whatever, man."

She flung her hands up and rose to her feet. "You know what, Hyde? Forget it," she steamed. "Go ahead, ignore the real problem here. Drink yourself to the grave. That's all you do anyway."

"Yes, that and toke up," said Fez under his breath.

Hyde shifted his shaded glare to Fez.

"What? It's true," Fez said flatly. "You chased her away, the both of you."

He moved his gaze to include Donna. "Now she's gone you can't stand it. And I for one, am done with this whole pity-fest. If she decides that Eric is a better friend than you both, then good for her, I say."

He stood up and dusted his hands on his pants. Without another backward glance, he turned on his heel and left, slamming the basement door behind him.

Donna stared at the door he departed through, her anger from before having gone with him. Her shoulders fell and she sank back down on the couch. She looked torn and insecure, her foot beating a wild tempo on the floor.

Hyde opened another can with a crack, and the fizzing of his beer filled the silence between them.

"Hyde?" Donna turned to face him. Her voice was low as she asked, "What if… What if something happens between them?"

Hyde chugged down half the can. At this rate, he'll hopefully be passed out before noon and not have to face the rest of the day. He belched loudly.

"What? Jackie and Forman?" he said and cackled hysterically. "Donna, It's Forman. He's been in love with you since before you even grew boobs."

He stopped suddenly and frowned, his eyes going glassy for a moment. Then they refocused and he said drunkenly, "It's _Jackie_. She and Forman? No way."

He shook his head hard. Pointedly. Vehemently.

"No way in hell," he repeated.

* * *

A loud rumble of thunder woke Jackie up in the deep of the night. She lay wide-eyed in bed as lightning flashed, illuminating the inside of the hut and casting shadows everywhere. In its light she saw that Eric's bed looked barely slept in and was empty.

Again.

She had a niggling sense that something wasn't right, and instinctively knew it was something to do with the horrifying nightmare she had witnessed those weeks ago. And deep secrets that Eric guarded that went along with it.

Another clap of thunder sounded and she jumped. Then the skies opened and rain began to pour down in sheets.

"Eric," she whispered.

She threw off the sheets and headed for the door, grabbing a raincoat off the hook and shoving her arms through the sleeves.

The wind sent the door banging violently open as she turned the handle and she struggled to pull it back shut as she left the warmth of the hut. She called his name and looked around her, hoping to see his familiar figure trudging towards her.

It was one of the first things that Eric had been sure to warn her about. To stay indoors during a storm like this one, for those that struck these parts were largely electrical, and lightning was a massive threat. She ignored that warning now, and strained to see him through the rain, but couldn't find him anywhere among the many huts of the slumbering village. Taking a deep breath, she pulled up her hood, tucked her chin into her chest, and stepped out into the lashing rain. Any area uncovered by the raincoat was immediately wet to the bone.

She didn't know where to go, or where he would be, she just knew that she desperately needed to find him and that wherever he was, he needed her. Jackie headed off blindly, but it seemed as if even if she wasn't consciously aware of it, her heart seemed to know where Eric was, and by sheer instinct her feet seemed to be leading her to the schoolyard.

Thunder roared, deep and menacing, and she picked up her pace. Rain slanted down, buffeted at an angle by the bluster of the wind. Trickles of water ran down her face and into the neck of the coat and Jackie shivered as lightning lit up the sky.

She heard the unmistakeable sound of someone splitting logs as she neared the schoolyard, and when she saw him, a mixture of relief and then a chilling fear swept swiftly through her body, nearly paralyzing her.

She was still a distance away, and he was standing in the middle of the large open yard with his back to her. He was soaked through, the material of his t-shirt transparent and plastered to the skin on his back.

She could make out the long ax in his hands, the same one he used to bring down the huge tree; the tip of the wide metal blade glinting silver in the moonlight as he swung it up with a hoarse cry and brought it down in a violent crash, splitting the log on a tree stump before him. He kicked savagely at it and the log flew off the stump and landed on the ground.

There was a pile of logs next to him that showed that he had been at it a while. Alarm flooded her as bolts of lightning streaked through the night sky, splitting it into several pieces and bathing the land below in brilliant light. Horror galvanized her into action.

"Eric!" she screamed, and broke into a run. "Put the ax down! It'll kill you!"

He didn't hear her. The rain continued to hammer down, drowning out the sound of her cries.

The usual sandy, hard ground beneath her feet had turned into a slushy mud and she slipped as her boots lost their grip on the dirt. She saw Eric bend down to pick up another log and swing the ax forcefully up once more. The dark sky flickered white, and the metal of his blade flashed a reply.

Jackie screamed again.

Miraculously, he heard her. He stopped mid-swing and with effort, lowered the ax to the ground.

He stood with his back to her and hung his head as he looked down; his shoulders heaving slightly. She hurtled into him and wrenched the heavy ax from his grip, flinging it as far away as she could. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and buried her face in his back, sobbing his name.

"What were you thinking?" she cried over the roar of the rain. "An ax in the middle of a lightning storm! You could have gotten electrocuted."

She pulled at him urgently, sobbing still. "Please Eric, let's go indoors. We shouldn't be outside."

Her hood had long since fallen back, and her hair was as wet as his.

The rain streamed down both their heads and down their faces and she could feel the rigid tension in his body. He didn't move and she wouldn't leave him. So they stood there in the middle of the open yard as curtains of water pelted down over them.

Thunder rolled deafeningly overhead. A couple of seconds later, several bolts of lightning tore through the black of the sky.

"Eric," she cried his name again.

He didn't appear to hear her, lost in thoughts of his own.

She released her hold on his waist and moved her body around his. He was staring off in the distance and the darkness held images he alone could see. She reached up to take his face in both her hands and was shocked at the deadness in his expression. His beautiful green eyes when she saw them were cold and empty.

Icy fingers of dread gripped her spine and a fresh bout of tears filled her eyes. She stroked the sides of his face with her thumbs and her voice was filled with anguish as she called for him to come back to her.

A huffing wind rose and Jackie started to shake. Eric's skin was cold and clammy, and she knew that it was not because of the chill or the storm.

"Eric," she pleaded, "it's me, Jackie. Let me help, _please_."

Her eyes spilled over and tears ran down her face, mingling with the ceaseless fall of the rain.

She brushed droplets of rainwater from his eyes and pushed his wet hair off his forehead, willing some spark of life back into his vacant eyes, some show of emotion from his blank face, but he didn't, or couldn't, hear her.

She ran her fingers over his lips, and her heart broke for him. A desperation surged through her, an unquenchable need to absorb his pain into her own body, to share it with him.

A tide of emotion swept her and she gave up. She stopped fighting herself, she stopped fighting the pull between them, and she stopped fighting the intense need she felt for him. She closed her eyes and pulled his head down to meet her lips in a feverish kiss in an attempt to join her soul with his. She kissed him with all that she had, all that she felt for him and all that she wanted from him.

Just when she was starting to despair, she felt him stir and his arms came up around her and crushed her to him with bruising strength. His lips melded and slanted over hers as he thrust his tongue into her mouth to taste its honeyed depths.

"Jackie…" he whispered hoarsely. "Jackie."

She tightened her arms around his neck and opened her mouth wider to give him better access, moaning slightly as his tongue stroked hers and the rain poured steadily down on them.

They sank down to the wet ground together, and he broke the kiss, breathing heavily. He leaned back on his haunches then stretched out and lay on the muddy ground, closing his eyes.

Jackie stared at him for a moment, chest heaving and lips swollen. She looked up at the sky then threw caution to the wind and did the same and stretched out on the ground next to him.

Thunder reverberated above, and they felt an echoing vibration in the ground beneath them. Jackie kept quiet, and concentrated on the feel of raindrops on her upturned face and closed eyes.

Eric's body was warm against hers and their hands found their way to each other. They lay in silence for a long time, and the heavy fall of the rain eventually abated to a light drizzle.

"I see them," Eric said, his voice low and hoarse, staring unblinkingly up at the night sky.

She turned her head to look at him and saw that his eyes were bright with tears that he would not shed.

"Who?" she asked quietly.

He told her.

He told her everything.

Through it all, she kept silent. The only sounds of the night was the soft pattering of the rain falling on the ground and the bass of his voice as he took her into his memories and the throes of hell. She never looked away from him and she never made a sound.

"I wasn't strong enough… I wasn't fast enough… The water was so fucking dark. Couldn't _do_ a damn thing," his voice finally hitched and he gritted his teeth at the telltale weakness.

He sat up suddenly, planting his feet on the ground and bowed his head between his knees.

She got up slowly too, and tentatively reached out to lay a hand on his back. It was warm despite the wet of his t-shirt. He stiffened at her touch, as if he couldn't bear it, and flinched away from her.

She scrambled to her knees then, and got around in front of him, pushing herself between his legs.

His eyes were closed and he wore such a look of self-loathing that she couldn't bear it. For this was Eric.

Her savior.

Her friend.

Her missing half.

Her everything.

She leaned her forehead against his and her long hair fell forward to frame both their faces. She planted soft kisses on his eyelids and another gentle one on his mouth.

She felt him shudder and when he opened his eyes they were filled with anguish.

"How can you stand to look at me," he asked harshly.

She smiled brokenly at him. "How can I not? You're…," she struggled for an image that he would understand. "You're my white knight."

He barked out a laugh in stunned disbelief.

Jackie cradled his face in both her hands and forced him to look in her eyes. "No, you don't. It's true." Her gaze fell over his face, and she took in the permanent shadows under his eyes and the more frightening ones lurking inside them.

She brushed her lips against his one more time and whispered against them, "I want to know your secrets and I want to fight your demons. We'll get through this together, Eric."

She could see that he didn't believe her, but she resolutely ignored it. It would take him time to heal and she was determined to be there for him, so that he was no longer alone.

It continued to drizzle all night, stopping only just before dawn. Together they watched as the sun rose that morning to a brand new day, painting the dawn sky in varying shades of orange.

And with it came a magnificent rainbow.

It was a beautiful thing. Gleaming seven different colors across the vastness of the horizon further than the eye can see.

Jackie turned to Eric. "You know," she said and managed a wobbly, but nonetheless cheeky grin, "I kinda miss _Rainbow_."

It took him a split second, then he chuckled. A deep, full-bellied one that warmed her all over.

He was quiet for so long she thought he wouldn't answer. When he did, she nearly missed it.

"I miss him too," he said sadly.

* * *

 **A/N: Please do NOT lie on the ground in an open field where there is lightning. The author does not encourage this, it will only get you killed. Heck, just head indoors or run for shelter when you see lightning. And NOT under a tree either. A tree does not count as shelter.**


	33. Chapter 33

They were lying in bed together by the low light of the lamp. He had his head on her chest, and she was running her fingers through the short hair at the back of his neck.

"Why did they do it?" she asked quietly.

Jackie's fingers in his hair were gentle and soothing. He closed his eyes, lulled by the movement. She rested her cheek on his head, and he took his time with his answer.

"They believe they had no choice," he said finally, hearing Morathi's calm voice in his head.

"The, um…," he started to say, but had to stop to clear his throat. When he continued, his voice was stronger and devoid of emotion. "The babies… They were _Mingi…_ Considered impure. Born with a physical deformity."

"Deformity?"

She felt him nod, the top of his head brushing her cheek. "One had a cleft lip… The other, a bum leg."

Jackie drew in a shaky breath, and waited for him to continue.

"They were believed to be evil. Bringers of death and destruction. One such child would be terrible enough for them... But two. _Two_ , were considered disastrous. And born within minutes of each other. The village elders went nuts. Hell, the entire village went nuts.

"They had to be sacrificed, and so they were. I tried to save them. I failed."

Jackie was filled with sorrow, her heart breaking for the unfortunate infants, for Eric, for the injustice of it all. She lifted his chin suddenly and ran a thumb along the jagged edge of the long scar hidden by the stubble under his chin. "You got this fighting for their lives, didn't you?"

He lowered his head in answer.

She brushed a kiss against his forehead and held him tight, forcing back tears. _Her brave,_ brave _man._

She kissed him again, inhaling wood and spice and earth. Her voice was soft when she spoke.

"Eric… At least… At least they had that. _Some_ one, even if he was a stranger. Who wanted to give them a chance. Who _fought_ for them. It means something."

She felt his chest rise as he took in a deep breath. But he made no reply and they lay together in silence. The light of the lamp slowly burned out, and they fell asleep in the comfort of each others' arms.

* * *

"Hyde. Hyde! Come on, buddy. Get up."

Donna gritted her teeth in frustration and looked at Fez. She had both hands under Hyde's left arm and Fez had both of his under Hyde's right.

A very drunk and very passed out Hyde. Whom they found sprawled on the ground before the sliding doors with his keys under one of the chairs, and correctly concluded that he must have dropped them and passed out while looking for them.

A puddle of last night's partially digested dinner lay next to his prone form and the both of them were trying their damned best to ignore it.

"Hydeee. Come on, man. Red's gonna have your ass," Fez tried again. He pulled hard. Hyde didn't move an inch. Fed up, he glared at Donna. "Put some muscle into it, woman!"

Donna glared back and dropped Hyde's arm. It landed on the floor with a dull thump.

Hyde turned around and gave a mighty snore.

"I vote we leave him here," she said in disgust.

Hyde's other arm fell to the ground with another heavy thud as Fez planted his hands on his hips. "Ai," he said resignedly, looking at the figure on the ground. He looked up and asked, "What if Red kicks him out?"

Donna swallowed a cry of frustration. Her temper getting more and more frayed by the second, she nudged Hyde with a foot.

"Hyde."

No answer.

She kicked him. Hard. "Hyde!"

He groaned and muttered a foul word.

Donna's eyes bugged out. "Did he just _swear_ at me?"

She looked at Fez's grinning face and looked back down at Hyde. She kicked him again. "Asshole!"

They whirled around as the slider opened. "Kids? This is early even for—. Oh my. Steven?"

"Uh, Miss Kitty, Donna saw him lying here when she got the paper this morning and called me over to help."

Kitty crouched down to put a hand over Hyde's forehead. It was slightly warm and she frowned, worried. "He must've been freezing out here last night. The poor dear. Come on, help me get him into the house before Red sees."

Between the three of them they managed to drag Hyde's sorry form into the living room and placed him on the couch.

"That'll have to do," said Kitty, "he can make it down the basement stairs himself when he's awake."

She looked over to Donna and Fez. "You kids can leave now," she said with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Looks of instant relief flashed on their faces.

"You sure, Mrs. Forman? I'll be by later to check on him," Donna said with a glance at the couch.

"Okay, honey. You do that."

Fez was already heading towards the door. "Bye, Miss Kitty!"

When they left, Kitty stood staring over Hyde's snoring figure on her living room couch. Her eyes were troubled and filled with concern.

"Oh, Steven," she sighed.

* * *

"This is getting out of hand, Kitty. Half the time he's drunk off his ass, the other half he's sleeping off a hangover. The only time he leaves the house is to get more beer. Heck, I don't even know if he goes to work anymore!"

"Red, the boy's in a phase. It'll pass, I'm sure."

"What phase? Steven's always in a phase."

Kitty busied herself scrubbing the grime off the stove.

"Kitty, he's a grown man. Men have responsibilities." Red shook his head and went back to polishing the shoe that he had in his hand. "Shame the Burkhart girl doesn't come around anymore. _She_ wasn't completely useless." He shook his head again in disgust. "Dumbass," he muttered.

Kitty didn't reply, scrubbing furiously. Her thoughts on the boy who had come to mean as much to her as her own son.


	34. Chapter 34

Eric's yard was coming along nicely, and Jackie watched him as he went through each day with new eyes, understanding now why he pushed himself so hard all the time.

Their individual beds were now pushed together to make one bigger, double one, but they found that they didn't need the extra space anyway, preferring to lie close to one another instead, with his arms around her and her head in the hollow of his neck.

Eric slept so much better with Jackie with him, and the one night that he had jerked awake in torment again, she was right there with him, arms tight around him, calm and soothing. The shadows under his eyes were gradually disappearing, but the scars on his soul were deep and those would take much longer to heal.

One Sunday, she woke to find Eric staring down at her. She smiled up into his eyes and wondered how she could have ever not noticed their color before. This morning they were a soft, rich green.

"Morning, angel."

She leant up and brushed his lips with a gentle kiss. "Morning."

"We're going somewhere special today."

She sat up immediately. "Where?"

He gave her an enigmatic smile. "You'll see."

The drive there took about two hours, and after that it was another thirty minute hike through the woods. The forest itself was lush and verdant, filled with life, and crisp and green. Birdsong sounded through the trees and delicately patterned butterflies fluttered about her. It was magical, and Jackie loved every bit of it.

The rushing sound of water became clear only about twenty minutes into their hike. It grew louder and louder and rose into a crescendo as they made their way towards it.

Eric held on to her hand to make sure she didn't lose her footing and with one arm, swept aside the low lying branches of a tree to lead her into a rocky glade. Mists of water wet her face as she took in the elegant falling waters of a most beautiful waterfall.

It was stunning, a white cascade of water falling straight down into a large pool surrounded by rocks. She made her way to the rocky edge of the clear waters of the pool, drawn to the falling waters, and Eric followed closely behind her.

Her eyes were closed. He stood next to her, gazing at her beautiful face.

 _I love you._ It was to him as clear as the skies overhead and the waters before them.

He loved her. With every broken piece of him and every part that she had managed to put back together. With whatever remained of him that he had lost and for the slice of heaven that she brought to him with just her smile.

 _I love you._

The sun shone brightly overhead, setting the whole glade alight with a soft orange glow and she lifted her face to it, a serene smile playing on the perfection of her lips.

"You like?" he asked softly.

Her smile grew. He watched as a fine spray of mist clung to the length of her eyelashes and coated the darkness of her hair.

"I love."

She opened her eyes to look deep into his. "I love," she repeated, linking her fingers with his. She looked at the pool and turned to him in question.

"It's safe," he said, reading her mind.

She giggled and immediately released his hand. Stripping off her t-shirt and shorts, she turned to face him in her bra and panties. He trailed his eyes over her body unabashedly, memorizing every dip and curve and hollow.

"You coming?" she called, before she tossed him an uninhibited grin and took a flying leap towards the waters. She pushed off the edge with one foot and executed a graceful somersault, courtesy of many hours of cheerleading practice, and entered the water with a loud splash.

Fighting a smile, Eric brushed some water off his hair and waited for her to resurface. She did a moment later, laughing giddily and treading water.

"Eric, come on," she called again.

He just smiled, content just to watch her. He leant down and started to unpack the lunch that he had brought along for them. She waited till he was done, then with a mischievous twinkle in her expressive eyes, she scooped her hands together and sent water splashing up at him.

"Come _on_ , Eric!"

He rolled his eyes and gave in, pulling his shirt up over his head. She cheered.

She averted her eyes when he reached for the waistband of his jeans. As familiar with one another as they had gotten to be over the past months, Eric had always taken care to maintain a decorum of some sort with her that he never seemed to bother with when they were back at Point Place. As such, she had never seen him without his jeans or pants on, and he never stalked around their hut in his boxers either. That he was undressing in front of her now made her shy somehow.

A quiet splash alerted her to his presence in the water and she looked around to see him break the surface a moment later. He wiped water off his face with his hand and swam towards her with strong and sure strokes.

"Does the fact that we're playing around in our underwear strike you as odd in anyway?" he asked her when he was an arm's length away.

She laughed and bobbed her head. "A little. But whatever."

He grinned. "You've great taste in your underwear, Jackie Burkhart."

She harrumphed and tried to dunk him under the water. She lost her balance in the process and ended up coughing and sputtering with Eric thumping her back.

"I'm alright. I'm alright," she gasped, clutching his forearms for support.

"Not so graceful in water, are we?"

She erupted in giggles, which nearly sent her sinking underwater again if not for Eric's steady arm around her waist.

They floated around on their back for a bit, enjoying the sun on their faces, the waterfall behind them, and each other's company. Jackie had never felt so fulfilled and so carefree.

Her nails were gross and her face was bare. Her hair was a shadow of its past glory, and right now it was a wet and tangled mess floating out around her head in the water. She wasn't wearing makeup, but her eyes have never been more luminous or her cheeks so rosy. Her hair was not hot ironed to an inch of its life, but it was lustrous and healthy and her skin was golden from the sun.

She glowed. And she knew she owed it all to Eric.

Eric.

She looked over at him, floating peacefully beside her. His eyes were closed like hers were a minute ago and he was so handsome he took her breath away. Her eyes followed the strong lines of his face, the straight nose and beautiful mouth and she thought about how nothing could ever be as beautiful as who he was on the inside.

With the sun warm on their skin and surrounded by the peace and tranquility of the lush forest of the glade, she felt like she would be content to be there with Eric forever.

"It's the first time I've been back here since you arrived," Eric said, breaking into her reverie.

She turned to him quizzically.

"Why?"

"I didn't need to."

He didn't say anything further and she left it at that. He flipped upright, sending ripples in the water around them and she followed suit. Lifting an arm he pointed towards the straight falling waters behind her. She turned to look.

"There's a cave behind that, you know."

Her face lit up. "I wanna see."

He nodded. "Follow me."

They swam towards the bottom of the falls where the waters were the roughest. Navigating around the churning pool at the foot of the falls, Eric led her along the face of the rocky cliff.

Once they were clear from the force of the tumbling waters, he stopped swimming and reached out a hand to her. She grasped his fingers and they threaded their way slowly along the rocky surface until their feet found solid footing on the ground.

A series of large smooth stones led up to the mouth of a small cave in the rocky cliff. The entrance of it was well hidden by the cascading waters of the waterfall and anyone who didn't know that the cave existed would have missed it. It was wide enough for three people to stand in a row with their hands outstretched, and the ceiling was high enough for Eric to stand upright comfortably, with a good foot or two to spare.

Eric made his way carefully up the slippery stones and Jackie followed closely behind. He entered the cave first and looked around, as awed now by it as he was the first time he had discovered it. He turned around to look at Jackie, eager to see her reaction to it.

Jackie had never seen anything like it in her life. She made her way slowly inside, and spun around in a slow circle, taking everything in.

The walls of the cave were illuminated with a dance of light. Sunlight streaming in through the moving waters of the waterfall outside cast shimmering patterns the full spectrum of the rainbow along the walls and up onto the roof of the cave. The roar of the falling waters echoed in her ears and surrounded them in the cavernous space. It was beautiful and magical. She wanted to stay here forever.

She turned to face Eric with shining eyes. "It's wonderful," she breathed.

"It is," he agreed huskily, and he was having difficulty tearing his eyes away from her.

The black and nude lacy underthings that she had on under the modest t-shirt and shorts she had left the village with left almost nothing to his imagination. Now that they were wet, they were nearly transparent, and the cups of her bra moulded to the shape of her full breasts. There was a chill to the air in the cave, and though Jackie didn't seem to feel cold, her body certainly reacted to it and her nipples were clear and erect through the thinness of her bra.

Her panties offered almost no coverage at all. It clung to her hips like second skin, and the dark thatch of hair between her legs was clearly visible to him.

His reaction to her near nakedness was instantaneous, and he was rock-hard immediately. He forced his eyes away, and turned his body to the side to hide his arousal from her.

She spoke softly, her voice filled with wonder, running a hand along the sides of the walls, oblivious to the raging war going on inside Eric, and that with every step that she took towards him, he took two steps back and away from her.

"God, I've never seen anything so incredibly amazing before... Just how did you discover this—" she broke off and frowned, noticing that he was doing some kind of weird side step with half his body angled away from her.

"Eric? What're you doing?"

He half turned his body, but kept his eyes fixed on a point over her left shoulder. "What?" he said shortly.

Her frown grew more pronounced and she looked behind her to follow his line of sight. Seeing nothing, she looked back at him. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here with her. She folded her arms under her breasts, disappointed and saddened that he didn't seem to be as content as she was that they were there together.

"Eric, what's wrong?" She looked behind her shoulder again and saw nothing there.

He was still avoiding her eyes. She took a step towards him and was stung when he moved away yet again.

The happy bubble that she was in deflated. She wrapped her arms more tightly around her middle and lowered her eyes to the floor.

"Jackie. You've got to stop doing that." Eric's voice was strained. He dragged his eyes away from her pushed-up breasts to fix on the flickering lights on the cave wall.

 _Jesus Jackie, stop that. God you're strangling me._ Hyde's voice echoed in her head and she fought a sense of déjà vu.

"Doing what?" she replied almost mechanically, unconsciously using the same words she had with Hyde. She stared at his stony profile and felt ice start to creep into her veins.

It physically hurt him to move. She had come closer and he could smell the alluring scent of flowers and sunshine, and a hint of something mysterious and sensual that was uniquely hers. His senses went into overload. He throbbed.

The past several days following the night that marked a turn in their relationship were some of the best and hardest nights that Eric had yet to endure. Her physical closeness to him each night was intoxicating, and though he never wanted to let her go, it grew harder and harder everyday for him to have her so close and have to restrain himself from doing anything more. The satin of her skin called to him, and he wondered what the feel of her bare body would be like under his hands. Every time a lock of her hair brushed against his arm, he imagined grabbing fistfuls of it as he lost himself deep within her.

It had been difficult, but he had tried to keep that deep soul-searing kiss that they had shared that night out of his mind; with the sole intention of giving Jackie a free pass, and some space to sort out how she felt about him, about them — together. So far, she had seemed happy about their current situation, blissfully oblivious to his raging desire for her.

She had never once mentioned their kiss, nor expressed any inclination to move past the only ones that they had shared since: chaste ones that spoke of great affection and deep caring — the kind between true friends; but held nothing of passion or desire — the kind that existed between lovers.

At present though, there was nothing he could do about his raging hard-on, which the gentleman in him was trying his best to hide from Jackie. At least until he got it under control.

She wasn't helping him any, and he heard her moving closer. A second later, he felt her slender fingers close around his forearm. Eric tensed, his hands fisting at his sides.

"Is it... something I said?" she ventured in a low voice. Her fingers tightened over his arm, and he felt the wet material of her bra just above the back of his elbow. "Or... Or something that I did wrong?"

He didn't reply, and she saw his jaw flex. "Eric, please talk to me. Look at me. Please."

She reached up to cup his jaw with trembling fingers, and turn his face towards hers.

Jackie had expected to see ice in his gaze, had even steeled herself for it. It was fine, she would be okay, nothing could hurt as much as what Steven had put her through. So why did she feel as if she was slowly being ripped apart at her newly mended seams?

She was not prepared for the blast of fire in his green eyes when she finally saw them. Relief swept through her in waves. Confusion soon followed. Eric read them all on her face and understood.

"Jackie. You _know_ how I feel about you." His voice was tight.

 _Did she?_

 _Long heated gazes. Scorching kisses to innocent parts of her body. Her wrist. Her palm. Excuses to be near her. To touch her._ Always _touching her. Always looking out for her. Always looking at her._

 _Like she was the most precious thing in the world to him._

Her breath caught. She did. She knew. He was just waiting for her to respond in kind. To feel that way about him too. But she didn't know if she did. She had come to him to run from the mess that she was back in Point Place. From Steven. From the loneliness. From everything. To mend. To heal. And she had.

She couldn't look away from him. God she loved his eyes. She lost herself in them, eyes that had never hidden anything from her, and for the moment, there was just the two of them. Him and her. And everything that had seemed so wrong and complicated before was so simple and so clear to her now.

She nodded her head and moved into his arms. The green in his eyes burned. The top of her head barely came to his chin as she leaned her body into his. She felt his erection, hot and hard as it pressed into her tummy and her own desire rose swiftly in response.

"Hiding something from me?" she asked him primly. She trailed her hand across his bare chest and feathered them down the ridges of his hard stomach to graze her knuckles against him. A tremor went through his body.

"Jackie? Do that again and you'll be finding yourself in a very different position."

She smiled into his chest, then turned her face up into his neck and breathed him in. She jumped up to wrap her legs around his waist and he caught her effortlessly. Their mouths fused together in a flaming kiss that left her light-headed and giddy.

"God, you taste so good," he murmured into her mouth, and moved to press her back against the side of the cave. He slid his hands under the wet material of her panties and she moaned, involuntarily rubbing herself against the bare skin of his stomach. His fingers gripped the flesh of her bottom.

They slid to the floor of the cave together without breaking the kiss and he snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her sideways into his lap. His hands came up to unclasp her bra and she felt cool air hit her as he took it off and tossed it away.

"Eric," she murmured, suddenly self-conscious at the thought that he would be seeing her breasts for the first time. Donna had a great pair and though hers were full and perfectly formed, she was still smaller than Donna and for the first time ever, she felt insecure about them.

"Let me look at you," he said and before she could voice her insecurities, she felt his hot gaze on her bare breasts. "God I've dreamed about this for so long," he breathed and a rough hand came up to palm the flesh and rub against her nipple.

Her breath hitched and she leaned into him, sucking on his neck. "You're perfect," he told her and Jackie felt a thrill of pleasure run through her at his words. She reached around for his other hand to cover her other breast and she moaned again when he massaged them and pinched her between his thumb and forefinger.

His mouth trailed down and he took one breast in his mouth as his fingers moved further downward to stroke her through the material of her panties. She clung on to his wide shoulders and mewled and gasped as he laved the tip of one breast with his tongue and played with her through the cloth. She bucked her hips towards him, aching for more and he nipped at her nipple with his teeth. "What do you need?" he asked her huskily.

"More…," she panted, "Eric, I need more."

He pushed the delicate material aside and slid his fingers inside her panties, running them down her slick folds. She was so hot and so wet and he was harder than he had ever been in his life.

"Eric," she pleaded, "please."

He obliged her and ripped the panties at the seams, slipping two fingers into her tight heat. A shiver went through her body as Jackie literally drowned at his touch. He moved faster, rubbing his thumb in circles against the sensitive nub on the outside of her folds. She pushed against his hand and spread her legs wider. Eric inserted another finger, and reading her body knew she was close to coming. He gave her breast a hard suck and she shuddered into a climax.

He held her tightly, his nose buried in her still damp hair — always so sweet and fresh and pure with something that was essentially 'Jackie'. He wondered if this was why Hyde kept her in his life all these years and how Kelso even, could never seem to really let her go.

She shifted in his arms, spent from her earth-shattering climax and accidentally brushed up against his throbbing erection.

He inhaled sharply. "Right. You need to give me a little space right now."

She shook her head with her face still in the crook of his neck and wound her arms tighter around him.

He laughed softly and reached round to gently untwine her arms from his neck. Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed and his breathing was uneven as he said, "We need to stop."

"Why?"

He chuckled but didn't open his eyes. "Because I'm about this close to having my way with you."

Her laughter rang out as clear as a bell, and echoed in the cave around them.

He smiled in response, then continued matter-of-factly, "And you're not ready for it."

She wanted to protest, she really did, but it seemed as if Eric knew her better than she did herself.

She wasn't ready. Definitely not, to go all the way with him. She wasn't even sure what she really felt about him yet; her heart had recently been badly broken, and her feelings for him were new and unfamiliar.

She might disagree with it, or she might not even know it. But Jackie Burkhart was not the kind of woman who would sleep with a man she didn't feel deeply for.

Even if she didn't actually know this on a conscious level, Eric seemed to guess at it, or even understand it to some extent. And he would never pressure Jackie into doing anything that he knew she would regret after.


	35. Chapter 35

The days continued to fly by, and Jackie could no longer see an end to her stay in Africa in sight. It was always there though, a slight nagging, that this couldn't last forever, that she needed to head back to Point Place eventually.

Things between her and Eric continued to progress, and they grew more comfortable with affectionate gestures and lingering touches, but as intimately as Eric knew her body now, she couldn't say that she knew the same about his.

He was content to simply hold her in the aftermath of whatever highs his clever fingers and mouth took her to, and would gently refuse her efforts to do the same for him. He seemed for the most part, able to control his urges, and only once, the first time he had used his mouth and tongue on her, did he get up stiffly afterward, and headed out of the room, telling her that he would be back in a few.

She had watched him leave, and the strain of the material from the bulge at the front of his jeans was particularly noticeable, and testament to his ardor for her.

It was a heady experience for Jackie, who's first relationship with Kelso had mostly been about being pressured to 'do it', and then she had jumped into another relationship with Hyde that had started at hot and dirty.

Eric was a breath of fresh air, and he really did seem perfectly okay with not getting any back in return. Heck, she had never even _seen_ him naked yet. Though as insanely attracted to him as she was, she was also relieved that he was allowing her to progress at her own pace.

* * *

"Hey, look, we both got a letter," Eric said as he walked through the door.

Jackie raised her eyebrows in question.

"It's addressed to the both of us, see."

"Where? Gimme that."

She settled the two cups of tea she had brewed for them down on the table and grabbed it from him to take a closer look. She was excited for no one wrote to her. She didn't expect it, since there was no one back in Point Place for her to expect a letter from, and she was thrilled. She glanced down at it and read:

 _To: Eric & Jackie_

 _Address: Africa_

Jackie burst out laughing. She recognized the almost child-like scrawl immediately. "Thank goodness your mom thought to include it in her package to you. It would _never_ have found its way to us otherwise."

"Yeah, Fez has never been one of the brightest bulbs."

"Hey!" she protested, slapping his arm. "That's my friend you're talking about."

He smiled his lopsided smile and turned his attention back to the parcel on the wooden table. He pulled out a cast-iron dish wrapped tightly in layers of tinfoil.

"Huh." He shook his head in disbelief. "I think she sent us an a _ctual_ casserole." He sat down and read the note:

 _Kids,_

 _I took my chances and made you an apple pie. I sent it via International Express so I hope it's still good when you get it. If it smells off, chuck it, you hear?_

 _Love,_

 _Mrs. Forman/Mom_

"Okay, pie then." Eric tore back a bit of the foil and sniffed delicately at it. "Smells okay."

Jackie looked over in amusement. "I guess dessert's sorted."

She pulled out the letter they got from Fez and settled herself on Eric's lap. She held out the letter and leaned against him, reading it aloud.

 _Dear Eric and Jackie,_

 _Uh, I hope you have room for one more because things are really getting intense here and Hyde and Donna are both really pissed that Jackie left for Africa._

She stopped and looked up at Eric. "Looks like the secret's out."

 _Somehow it's my fault even though it was your mother, Eric, that let the cat out of the bag. Anyways, either don't come back or take me in._

 _Me,_

 _Fez_

"Ooooo-kay. Looks like they're not happy that I'm over here."

Eric considered her. "Does it bother you?" he asked.

She pulled her lips together in a tight line. "Honest?" She nodded her head slightly. "Yeah, it does."

"Right."

She exhaled through her nose and folded her arms, finding a more comfortable spot against his chest. "Well, doesn't it bother you? I mean, Steven's your best friend and Donna's, well, Donna's what she is."

He barked out a laugh. "And what's that?" he questioned.

She rolled her eyes and shot a glance at him through her lashes. "She's, you know, _The One."_ She lifted a slim shoulder in a shrug. "Much like what Steven's to me, I guess. I don't suppose you'll ever stop caring about her," she finished in a low voice.

"If she were, 'The One', she would be right here right now wouldn't she?" Eric answered shortly.

A slight frown wrinkled her features and she pushed out her bottom lip. "I just… I feel… I don't know," she finished with a slight huff and blew some hair out of her face.

She turned to him in all seriousness. "Eric, do you, you know, feel that this is wrong?"

He tightened his arms around the circle of her waist. "No, I don't."

She pushed her head back against his shoulder and her eyes traced the strong line of his jaw. She unfolded her arms to pull his arms tighter around her.

"Whatever. They're an ocean away, who cares?"

But even as she said it, even as she closed her eyes to the feel of his lips on hers, she still couldn't help the feeling that she and Eric had started what would only snowball into disaster.

* * *

Eric threaded his fingers through hers as Jackie rested her head on his shoulder. They were sitting in complete silence under her thorn tree on top of a blanket that Eric had laid on the ground. The stars above winked down at them, and even after so many evenings spent just like this, Jackie was still taken by the sheer number of stars they could see in the sky.

Their day had started out wonderfully, with him returning to the coziness of their hut clearly moved by something. When she had asked him about it, he had simply held out a sheaf of papers. She recognized his scrawl in red ink over each and everyone of them and realized that they had just been graded.

"Read them," he said in his quiet way.

She did. And she was blown away. It was an assignment for his younger students - between the ages of nine and twelve, asking to write a short composition of a hundred and fifty words about their favorite thing in the world. A simple one, one that an average ten year-old would have no problems with, so the fluency and the penmanship that these previously illiterate children had exhibited in completing their assignment was mind-blowing.

Eric was a fantastic teacher, she realized. He had accomplished so much for the kids and he was tireless in wanting more for them, tenacious in his drive to do more, to give them more.

"Look at this," she had said to him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Look at you," she continued, looking up from the papers and at him with pride. "Saving Africa, one child at a time."

"People should know about this," she said to him now, breaking the quiet of the evening.

Eric shifted a little, but didn't answer, waiting for her to continue.

"People should know," she said again, turning her head up to look at him. "What you're doing here, for the villagers. _About_ the villagers."

Eric laughed softly. "About the villagers and the country, yes," he agreed. "But what I'm doing is what other people have been doing for years. It's not that special."

She felt his chest rise with a sigh. "I only wish that more people are willing to help," he said.

She nestled closer to him in response. "Me too."

An owl hooted somewhere in the distance and a breeze blew past.

"Maybe you should think about getting into television again," Eric said musingly, staring down at her dark head. "Something different this time, more serious. Like broadcasting or something. After all, you're always writing and doodling in those notebooks of yours - and I know they aren't idle thoughts either."

Again, Jackie was touched at his apparent regard for her. Her arm tightened about his waist and she pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

"You know, you're the only one who's ever thought that I was capable of more," she said lightly.

Eric thought about his friends and family and realized that he could say the same about her. "Same here, Jackie," he told her with a wry smile.

She wrinkled her nose. "I wonder why we weren't friends before."

He leaned away slightly so he could look at her. He raised an eyebrow at the innocent look on her face.

"Seriously?" he asked with a tinge of incredulity and she giggled.

"All right, fine. I was bossy and mean and thought you were a loser." She smiled into his eyes and leaned up for a lingering kiss.

"I definitely don't think so now," she continued softly when she pulled away.

"Well, you're still bossy," he said and yelped as she pinched him lightly in the arm.

"But I like your bossy," he added charmingly.

She laughed. "You say the nicest things," she told him.

"That I do." Then he added almost as an afterthought, "You bring that out in me."

"I'm glad." She was quiet after that and let her thoughts wander. They chanced upon an odd direction and she spoke aloud with thinking. "Eric, do you feel that everything happens for a reason?"

He turned to her in surprise. "What do you mean?"

She fumbled a little with her words. "Like everything that led me here to Africa."

He thought about it for a little while, then shrugged. Who knew? "Who knows," he said to her, echoing his thoughts.

She made herself more comfortable by burrowing deeper into his side. He raised his arm around her and looked down in amusement.

"Well, I like to think so," she said decisively, and closed her eyes.

His eyes fell over the perfect features of her face and rested on the pout of her lips. He leaned down to tease them open with the tip of his tongue. She returned his kiss with fervor and his heart rate sped up as it always did when she responded to him.

He was under no illusions that she loved him. Or that this would end in anything other than heartbreak for him. But for whatever time they had together, for whatever duration of time they had left, he would be forever grateful that he at least got a chance to taste the sweetness of her kiss.

* * *

A few days later saw Jackie shielding her eyes against the glare of the sun as she was out with Afia in the clearing that made the village square where the women were laying out sweet potatoes to dry in the heat. They swore it made the flesh sweeter, and Jackie was inclined to agree with them.

Afia's baby was strapped to her back in a cloth bundle and Jackie smiled every time he tried to grab fistfuls of her hair to stuff in his mouth.

She stopped and straightened as she heard the distant cries of happy school children as Eric released them for the day. The shouts and cries scattered as they scampered off in different directions throughout the village and Jackie smiled as a great contentment stole over her.

She was happy here, too happy. She looked up, spotting Eric's broad frame some distance off as he made his way towards her, and a large cloud stole over the sun for a moment, throwing a brief shade to the land below. Then a rogue breeze blew past and she shivered.

Things were changing again, she could feel it, and it scared her. Because every time a wind of change blew into her life, it robbed her of things, of people, and only left her pain in its wake.


	36. Chapter 36

Screams woke them both. Never-ending, frantic, half-crazed screams.

Eric was awake and alert in an instant. Shirtless and barefoot, he was already halfway out the door and yelling at Jackie to stay put when she finally registered that something was very, very wrong.

Heedless of his order, she made her way to the door after him. She saw his dark figure sprinting way ahead of her towards the village center, and what she registered in horror, must surely be the biggest, scariest, most frightening fire she had ever seen before in her entire life.

Fingers of orange flames reached high, burning bright against the inky black of the night sky. She could feel the heat of it from where she stood. She half-ran, half-walked towards the burning dwelling, dazed at the sheer monstrosity of it, fear curling at the bottom of her stomach.

Screams sounded all around her, and amidst the chaos of the scene, she could see that some of the villagers, mostly men, had already formed a haphazard line from the well to the hut that was aflame and were frantically passing wooden buckets, pots, pans and even reed baskets along in an attempt to put out the fire.

Women were running about, clutching babies in their arms, dragging toddlers away to safety. But there was no order, no clear direction and most of them didn't know where to go. A great number of them she saw were still desperately running into their homes, returning with arms full of their belongings, afraid that they too, would lose them to the flames if the fire spread. It was a very real possibility, for the huts were built close to one another, and if it spread, the entire village would be razed to the ground come morning.

She grabbed one of the running women by the arm.

"Go to the schoolyard!" Jackie shouted in what she knew of Swahili.

The woman's frightened eyes met hers in dazed confusion.

"Schoolyard!" she hollered at the top her lungs.

Several of the women stopped to stare at her, and for once in her life, Jackie thanked the heavens that she possessed one of the shrillest, most strident voices ever owned by womenkind. And as understanding dawned, they turned as one to head towards the schoolyard Eric was building. The safest place to be, for it was not only upwind, but a separate feature away from the thatched roofs and flammable wood that made up much of the village.

She ran towards the burning building again, and relief filled her as she saw Eric's unmistakeable figure in the black smoke pouring from the building. He was in the thick of it, shouting orders and directing people into two lines to putting out the flames.

A crying child stood in the middle of the narrow path, a few huts away from the burning one, apparently lost in the midst of the mayhem and disorder and Jackie made her way towards him, coughing as the wind carried plumes of smoke in their direction.

She swept him into her arms just as his sister came running up towards them. She recognized them both instantly, for they were Afia's two older children.

"Deka!" Jackie cried. "Where's your mother? Tell her to take you and your brother to the schoolyard now. I have to help Eric."

A loud crash sounded in the distance and Jackie realized that a beam had fallen in. There were shouts as sparks flew and the thatched roof on the next hut caught fire.

She whirled back to face the little girl. "Go to the schoolyard. It's safe there. Go now, quickly!"

"No, no," the young girl replied, and Jackie saw that her frightened face was stained with tears. "Mother said run. She ees in hut. Can't get out."

For a moment Jackie wasn't sure what she was hearing. Then terror set in as understanding dawned. She switched to Swahili and knelt down to meet the girl's eyes.

"In the hut? Is that your hut?" she spoke as she pointed a trembling finger towards the burning inferno that was once a beautifully constructed hut that she had spent many happy hours in.

The young girl nodded, sniveling, and her brother burst into fresh bouts of tears.

"Meester Erik, he be trying tah save her."

There was a roaring in Jackie's ears as she turned slowly to the tall form not all that far away from her.

She saw him throw a blanket around his shoulders.

She heard him yell something indecipherable at the line of men, and someone doused him with water.

He shook back water from his hair and pulled the now sodden blanket up over his head.

The next thing she knew, he had disappeared into the flaming pyre of wood and straw.

She screamed.

And screamed and screamed. When she finally saw that she was sending the two children next to her into a second wave of panic, she stopped abruptly and pulled herself together. They were clinging to her legs tightly and wailing at the top of their lungs along with her.

She forced Eric from her mind and gathered them close, whispering comforting nonsense with tears in her eyes. Then she took off into a run with them in her arms. Her vision was blurry, but she knew her way unerringly to the schoolyard and could get there blindfolded.

As she approached the schoolyard, she spotted Morathi immediately, with his familiar shock of white hair, shepherding the women and children into organized lines. The children found their aunt among the women, and willingly left her arms for those of Afia's sister's. Jackie explained to the anxious woman that she was going to help as much as she could, and promised to be back soon.

Her actions though precise and calm were belied by the half-crazed look in her eyes as she thronged the crowd for Ebele. She found her dispensing smelling salts to an elderly woman and grabbed her arm.

"Please, you have to come. Hurry! They might be hurt. He might be hurt."

Her words came out in a mad jumble, a mix of Swahili and English, but the medicine woman seemed to understand her. She nodded.

When they re-entered the village, they found that the fire had spread to the neighboring hut, and the men had formed three lines between the well and the fire. Half of the roof of Afia's hut had fallen in, and Jackie was beside herself with distress.

She ran towards the front of the line searching frantically for Eric, but she didn't see him anywhere. She felt Ebele rush past her in a flurry of skirts and zoomed in on the huddled figure of Afia sitting in her husband's arms.

"Afia!" she cried, and ran after Ebele towards her.

Shouts continued to fill the night, and she felt the splatter of water as the men hurled it towards the flames. The heat of it up close was near to unbearable.

 _Eric Eric Eric._ His name played over and over in her head, as if by chanting it she could conjure him up before her.

Afia seemed to be alright, and Jackie fell to the ground next to her and hugged her tightly around the circle of her husband's arms.

"Eric! Where's Eric?" she asked desperately when she released her.

In her heightened state, she failed to notice that Afia was not responding nor did she notice the glazed look in her friend's eyes.

"She in shock," Ebele told her, and exchanged a look with Afia's husband, Dakarai.

Jackie looked into his eyes and noticed that they were grief-filled and fixed on the crumbling building behind her. Despite the noise and shouts and utter bedlam going around her; for Jackie, one could hear a pin drop. She drew back suddenly.

"Where's Desta?" she asked Dakarai, almost quietly, calmly even. She repeated her question as her voice grew shrill. " _Where's Desta_?"

Tears shone in his eyes and the orange of the fire glinted off the sheen of sweat on his ebony skin. He nodded towards the burning hut, his arms still tight around his wife.

"He be inside. Meester Erik went in to get him after he bring out my Afia."

 _Nooooooooo!_

"Eric!" Jackie screamed and unthinkingly ran towards the fires, hell-bent on single-handedly saving him from certain death.

The heat of it was impossible, and Jackie threw up her arm uselessly to shield from it. All of a sudden, the remaining half of the roof caved in with a loud crash and sparks and splinters of wood were sent flying over her and the men in the front line.

She shrieked in terror. "Eric!"

A strong arm closed around her waist and pulled her back from the flames, and she sobbed and railed helplessly against Ebele's bigger and much sturdier form.

"No! No, Miss Jackie. Nuh-thing you can do."

* * *

Eric's eyes were burning, his skin was burning, his sweat was burning, and he could only take in air in short, scalding gasps. There was just about a foot and a half between him and the angry flames above, and he pushed his body along on his elbows on the floor of the hut, keeping as low to the ground as possible. The ground was made of mud, and slightly cooler than the swirls of smoke and fire raging above him.

 _Stove, stove, where was the damnable stove?_

He had dragged Afia out by the skin of his teeth, for she was hysterical and desperate somehow to stay in the burning hut. She raked at him and nearly clawed his eyes out when he had finally discerned in the barely decipherable flow of words she had been screaming at him that she had tossed the baby under the stone stove in a desperate attempt to save him when the beam had fallen down on them.

He somehow managed to calm her down, and in the midst of the flaming furniture and under the burning roof, promised her that he would save the baby or die trying, before the fight went out of her and she collapsed in his arms.

The crowd had cheered when he had re-appeared to deposit Afia in Dakarai's arms, and then a collective silence had ensued when he had rushed in again to get the baby.

His eyes were burning. He felt like his skin was near to goddamn melting, and every breath he took was sheer agony. But there was no way he was letting another baby die.

 _Please be alive, please be alive. Please God, let him be alive._

He pushed himself forward, inch by inch and a flash of grey to the right caught his eye. _The stove!_ He saw a wailing, wriggling bundle on the floor under it and sent a heartfelt prayer heavenward, for he knew that Desta was alive.

And that was when the other half of the roof caved in on them.

* * *

Heat. So much heat.

The crackle of the flames woke him, and he realized that he had been knocked unconscious and it was only by some miracle that he was alive.

Oxygen was thin and they were fast running out of air. The sound around him was deafening to his ears: wood snapping and sputtering. The smoke undulating around him was heavy, and so thick, he could hear it billowing up and out through the non-existent roof.

So much noise, and yet, complete silence from the one sound that he wanted to hear — Desta had stopped crying.

Panic set in and his heart rate accelerated. He started taking in more breaths of air than he needed and his thoughts were all over the place. He lost sense of which direction he was supposed to be crawling in and a fine trembling started through his body. Despair, black and hollow, filled him and he tasted defeat so vile, he wanted to die right there along with the baby.

Through sheer force of will, he commanded himself to focus, and with some difficulty managed to get his emotions under control again. Almost instantly, his heart rate slowed, and his thoughts cleared. He refused to dwell in the past, on the babies that he could not save, and concentrated instead on the one that he could _still_ save.

He inched along to the right, towards the grey stone, and his heart sank when he saw a hefty plank of wood burning like a torch in front of it.

He was tiring fast, and the blanket that he had had over himself had fast dried, and was of no use as a form of protection now. He used it to wrap his hands instead, and lying flat on the ground, tried to lift and throw the wooden beam blocking the stove aside.

Smoke stung his eyes and Eric hissed with effort, but he barely managed to move it an inch. Sweat was pouring down his face and he could make out the vague form of the swaddled child behind the flaming beam.

He sidled slowly as close as he could to the beam, and tried again to clear the way to the child, but his movements were slow and sluggish and the beam didn't budge. He sucked in labored breaths of scalding air, and his nostrils burned.

He fixed his eyes on the child, never once looking away from him.

The bundle twitched.

It twitched! His heart leapt at the sight and he tried to call to him, to reassure him, but his throat was burnt raw. Spurred on, he grunted and tried again to flip the beam aside. The cloth around his hand caught fire. He swore.

The bundle twitched again. Desta was alive, Eric was sure of it.

 _Fuck it._ He pushed himself up to a mid crouch to gain more leverage.

He knew it was a mistake the moment he decided to do it, but he did it anyway. Already weak from the lack of oxygen and the unbearable heat, his movements were not as quick as he had anticipated. Before he could haul the beam away from the stove, the heat from the flames above singed the skin off his back and he fell to his knees in acute agony.

He gritted his teeth against the pain, and steeled himself against the wave of dizziness that assailed him. He crouched low on shaky knees, forcing himself to breathe as much as he could, then gathered the courage, and the strength, to push himself up again.

He let out a strangled cry as the flames seared his back. With a herculean effort, he forced himself to pull off the burning beam before the pain and nausea brought him staggering to the ground.

His vision swam. The air was so thick. His head hit the floor and he lay there prostrate.

The path to the stove and the child lay clear of the flaming beam, but he could not muster the strength nor the energy to move any further.

His breathing slowed. His eyelids were heavy and the heat didn't seem to bother him so much anymore. It was almost… Soothing.

 _On a good ship. Lollipop._

 _It's a sweet trip to the candy shop._

His eyes flew open. _No._

He struggled to his elbows. They gave out and he dragged himself along the floor towards the hollow under the stove. His muscles strained. His back hurt like a motherfucker. He hurt _everywhere._ His eyelids started to fall shut again. He forced them open. _No._

The baby chose that moment to let out a plaintive wail. It was all the push that Eric needed. Adrenaline he could have sworn he no longer had shot through his veins and he pulled himself forward inch by painful inch. Nearly collapsing with relief, he got close enough to scoop the baby up to him.

Desta was weak, but seemed to be alright. Eric stumbled to a half-crawl and used his body to shield the baby from the worst of the heat and flames. He no longer felt the pain in his back and he wondered inanely if it was a good or bad thing.

Somehow, he managed to pick his way through the blazing debris out of the hut. He would later remember nothing but a hazy vision of smoke and fire and the feel of a baby against his chest, but he barely knew how he managed to get out of there alive.

* * *

"Let me go! Let me go!"

Jackie was sobbing uncontrollably, pushing and kicking against Ebele ineffectively, and at that moment she _hated_ the fact that she was small.

A sudden cheer among the men had her looking up, her sobs ceasing abruptly. She saw Eric stagger out from the burning hut in a half-crawl and her heart stopped. A few of the men dashed forward to pull him and Desta away and out of danger.

"Eric!" she screamed, and then screamed again when she saw him reel and sway and fall to his knees. She pushed free from Ebele, who was rushing towards him at the same time. "Eric!"

It was Afia who got there first however. She grabbed the baby that Eric held out to her, cooing and sobbing and thanking him all at the same time.

He barely heard her, the adrenaline had left him and the lack of air and his injuries had finally gotten to him. He collapsed on the ground.

Jackie fell to her knees next to him in a fit of tears and hysteria and nearly fainted when she saw the mess that was his back. She cushioned his head on her lap and rocked with him, stroking his face, murmuring his name over and over again.

"Omigod, Eric. Omigod. Ebele. Ebele, please, _please_ you have to help him. Please."

His breathing was labored and frighteningly hollow and Jackie raised pleading eyes to Ebele. The medicine woman's face was grave and she knelt across her and ran experienced hands over his arms and legs, checking for any other grievous injuries.

Satisfied that there were none, she looked at his eyes and saw that his pupils were dilated and unfocused. She signaled to three of the village men who immediately came over and between the three of them, they managed to carry Eric to her hut.

* * *

Jackie was by his side the whole night as Ebele tended to him. There were other minor burns and cuts, but the worst of it was on his upper back.

The men had laid him flat on his front on a raised cot in Ebele's hut. It was the first time Jackie had been inside and had she not been so beside herself with fear and anxiety she would have been fascinated. Wooden shelves lined the walls and every bit of it was occupied with earthen or glass jars of what she could only assume were herbs of medicine of some kind.

Eric's back was a frightening sight. He was bleeding slightly, and the blood was tinged with a clear yellowish substance. The skin was red and raw for the most of it and raised with painful looking blisters. But there was an irregular patch between his shoulder blades that was white and leathery and there were parts along the edge of it that had turned black. Some of his skin within the area had shriveled and had taken on a waxy appearance. It was horrific and Jackie felt light-headed.

Ebele worked swiftly, assessing and dismissing the minor burns and cuts on his chest, arms and elbows. She turned her attention instead to the same area that had Jackie going weak at the knees, shaking her head and muttering under her breath.

Eric had been unconscious, but the moment Ebele had thrown water over his back to wash the wound he woke up roaring in agony. It took three men plus Ebele to hold him down, and even that was a struggle.

Disoriented and dazed from the mind-numbing pain and smoke that he had inhaled, Eric had briefly registered that he was being restrained and immediately went berserk. Shouts and yells ensued as he tried to throw the men off him, blind to the searing pain on his back. Ebele was bellowing at all of them to hold him still because he was doing more damage to the severe burns on his back.

Jackie had been frozen in place, eyes bright with tears and fear, unable to move as he seemed to be re-living some God-awful memory. She had stuffed her knuckles into her mouth, and a keening moan started from somewhere deep within her.

Another man came running into the hut and Ebele ordered him to take her place and keep Eric still. She came back with a glass of a milky-looking liquid and tried to force it down Eric's throat.

He growled ferociously at her and jerked his arm wildly, causing one of the men to come flying forward into Ebele. The glass crashed to the ground.

It brought Jackie leaping forward in a frenzy.

"No! Noo!" she screamed at them. "You're hurting him, let him go!" She latched on to one of the men's arms, trying to get him to let go of a struggling Eric.

"Miss Jackie. Jackie!" Ebele grunted and hauled Jackie bodily off. "Look at Ebele!" she commanded. "Look at me!"

Mercifully Jackie obeyed, responding to the tone of her voice. She raised half-crazed eyes to Ebele's calm and lucid ones. "Focus!"

Jackie nodded dumbly and somehow she started to get ahold of herself.

"Okay," she said her voice breaking. "Okay, what do you need me to do?"

"Ah need to sedate him," Ebele said as she moved briskly to fix up more of the milky liquid. She glanced at Jackie. "Ah cannot work if he fights me."

Jackie licked her dry lips and nodded.

Somehow they managed to get him to drink it. He fought them through it all. Amid the blur of her tears and pleas for him to forgive her she managed to help Ebele pour the liquid down his throat. It worked fast and his struggles grew weaker till eventually they ceased as the drug took him.

Ebele quickly got to work, cleaning up the wound as best as she could, before pulling jars off her shelves and creating some herbal smelling poultice that she slathered on his back before she covered the wound loosely with sterile bandages.

Jackie helped Ebele as best as she could, and when it was all done, she put her head next to Eric's on the cot and cried.


	37. Chapter 37

Eric was having a monster of a nightmare.

He was suffocating from the heat of an invisible fire. "Let me go!" he shouted at Kwame and the men holding him back. He strained against them, the veins in his neck bulging from the effort. "Let me go!"

The shadowy figure of the Ethiopian shaman materialized not far away from him. He raised his hands in the air and Eric saw a baby wriggling and crying.

"No!" he screamed. "Murderer!"

The heat suddenly grew unbearable. Rivulets of sweat started to pour down his face. He was hot, so damn hot. It felt like he was on fire.

A low chanting started and he felt like he was floating. He struggled to hold his ground; struggled to steady his vision. The chanting got louder and he felt the thrum of it vibrate through his body. The shackle-like grip the men had on his body suddenly disappeared and Eric's vision swam as he fell to his knees. He shook his head hard and willed himself to get a grip and regain control of his senses.

His head snapped up as he heard a loud splash and the chanting grew to a crescendo. "No!" he heard himself scream. "Noo!"

He forced himself to his feet, swaying as he did so. God, the pain. So much pain. He felt something wet and sticky on his neck and his fingers came away red with blood. The blood kept flowing, it wouldn't stop.

He made a stumbling run towards the the river. Slow. He was too slow. But right before his eyes, the rushing water disappeared. Flames danced before his eyes: a river of fire.

A baby wailed.

Without a second thought, Eric dove into the flames.

* * *

He woke up with a roar, and Jackie almost fell off her chair.

His eyes were glassy and bloodshot and he couldn't get them to focus. His head was swimming and his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. His back burned. He pushed himself up on one arm and his elbow buckled. It was a feeling he recognized — opium.

"Eric, no, you're gonna hurt yourself. Here, Let me."

He knew that voice. He loved that voice.

"Jackie," he rasped, and his words came out slurred. "No… No drugs."

He made out the vague outline of a slender hand holding a glass of water before him and he took a grateful sip through the straw. He tried to speak again, and this time his voice cooperated.

"No drugs."

He tried to get up again and Jackie slid her arm under him for support. "Eric, please, you need to rest," she whispered.

He shook his head and the room swam again. He nearly brought up what little water he had just drunk. _Damn opium._

Jackie laid a hand on his forehead. He was warmer than she would have liked and she was torn as tried to explain it to him.

"You can't, Eric. The burns on your back… They're… very bad. Ebele said the pain will be unbearable without the morphine."

"No."

"Eric—"

His voice was weak and he struggled to string a coherent sentence. "No. I need… I can't… memories," he stumbled over his words. "Can't… keep them back. Too… weak. No."

She understood.

When Ebele brought out the milky liquid an hour later, she shook her head and told her no. Ebele protested, she needed Eric to rest and there was no way he could if he spent all his energy fighting a pain that could be alleviated with the magical effects of morphine.

"Trust Ebele, Miss Jackie. Ah been medicine woman a long time. He been burnt bad. Da pain…" She shook her head gravely. "He needs da opium."

She walked over to the cot where Eric was lying asleep and lifted up a side of the mass of bandages loosely covering his skin. "Look."

Jackie nearly caved. For even to her untrained eye she could see that they were awful and likely excruciating.

"If eet doesn't heal quickly, infection will set in and he may die."

Her heart stopped at Ebele's words and she knew that Ebele wasn't lying. She closed her eyes against the wounds on his back and swallowed hard. Gathering her strength, she shook her head and told Ebele shakily to dump the drug.

"No." She touched Ebele's hand and put Eric's dressings back in place. "I promised him. No."

She drew in an unsteady breath and looked at Ebele. "I want him to take it too, and I'll try to explain it to him again. But unless he tells me otherwise… I won't lose his trust this way."

Ebele looked long and hard at her, but eventually she nodded.

"Eet will not be easy to sit by and do nothing, Miss Jackie," she said and turned away to put the glass vial down on a small table nearby. "But eet will be harder for him. Burns are not easy to recover from."

She sighed and placed a hand on Jackie's shoulder. "Your young man has been through much worse, ah think, and the burden of it weighs at his soul. Perhaps," she said softly, her voice heavy with sorrow, "you should wait tah tell him about Desta."

Tears sprung to Jackie's eyes at the mention of Desta, and she bowed her head.

Ebele straightened up from rearranging the poultice on Eric's back, seeming satisfied that it wasn't worsening. "He ees a strong one, girl, there aren't many like him. But even so," she spared Jackie a look as she turned to leave them, "perhaps dis time around eet will be easier for him with you here beside him."

* * *

Eric floated in and out of consciousness the whole night. Heat seemed to radiate off his back and Jackie could tell that he was in unbearable pain. Ebele's words rang true. She stifled sobs at every moan that escaped his lips, at every tremble that racked his body.

She did her best by him — gently wiping his brow with shaking fingers and always had a glass of water ready for him when he woke. But it was incredibly difficult for her to sit helplessly by. More than once, she found herself involuntarily rising to get Ebele for the opium, but forced herself to sit back down again, gnawing at her knuckles till they were raw.

Once, he woke and noticed that her cheeks were wet with tears. He tried to raise his arm to brush them away, but the effort of the movement cost him greatly. Pain flashed across his haggard features and she gave a soft cry and crouched down beside him, forcing a brave smile to her lips.

"Don't cry," he slurred through a haze of pain. "Don't cry for me."

Jackie bit down so hard on the inside of her cheek that blood filled her mouth. She pressed a quivering kiss to the side of his face next to his ear and whispered soothing words, and prayed that he would pass out from the pain again.

It was about a week later, when the ravaged flesh on his back seemed to knit back together and start to resemble something like skin again. Eric was dreadfully weak, but his appetite was back and Jackie gratefully spooned chicken broth past his pale lips. Feeding him was hard, for Ebele had given strict orders that he was to lie on his front as much as possible, but she was thankful that Eric was a good patient, and other than the refusal of more opiates, he didn't fight her on anything else.

Slowly, his strength returned, and with that, his bearings. Three days after that, he voiced the question that Jackie had been dreading.

"Desta?" he asked her.

Her breath caught. She didn't know how to tell him.

Her silence was ominous and icy fingers of dread started to close about his spine. "Jackie?"

She broke. Her lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears. She shook her head unsteadily. "He, uh, he didn't make it."

Time seemed to stand still. Blood rushed to his head and Eric couldn't breathe. _No. No._

"It can't be," he said, and gave his head a hard shake. "No. There's been a mistake. I brought him out. I held him in my arms. He was alive."

She reached for him, but he shook her off, trying to get up.

"No," he repeated. "No."

Daggers of pain stabbed his back as he pulled himself upright and he gritted his teeth, welcoming it, preferring it, to the one that was tearing him apart from the inside.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Eric, no, please don't do this to yourself."

He turned to her with such torment in his eyes that it nearly killed her. "I _saved_ him, Jackie," he said. "I _saved_ him," he said again and his voice broke.

She let out a cry and moved to stand between his legs, wrapping her arms around him. "I know, I saw you... I know."

He sagged in her arms, burying his face in her stomach and she felt his turmoil all the way to her soul. Her tears rained over the both of them.

"Why?" he asked. She felt his breath on her belly through the material of her top. "Why couldn't I save them?"

Her heart rent a bit more at the anguish in his words. She bent down to kiss his head, and was struck with a fresh wave of pain when she saw the wad of bandages covering his ruined back.

 _Eric, oh Eric._ He had been through so much. Enough, please, enough, she prayed.

He had already been through so much. She shook her head for she didn't know the answer. Why did bad things happen to good people? Why make him save Desta only to have him die later? She didn't know. But it was so unfair.

She stroked his dark head and would have given anything to take his pain into herself. The words came to her unbidden, and perhaps in her soul she knew them to be true.

"I don't think they were meant to be saved, Eric," she said softly. Her fingers trailed down the side of his face. "If they were, you would have saved them."

He pulled himself away, perhaps refusing to believe that he had no power and control over fate and destiny, and got to his feet with difficulty.

She made a small sound of protest but didn't push the issue. He swayed a little when he was on his feet but gritted his teeth and managed to steady himself. She looked at him with anxious eyes but his face was set in granite and she could tell nothing of his thoughts or feelings, and all that she saw was that his eyes were red.

Her fingers closed around his forearm. "Eric, please," she tugged his arm gently, "you need to rest. Your back... It's been burnt pretty badly."

He turned his eyes on her and she saw that they were distant. He was locked away in another place where she knew he would let those feelings fester until they ate away at what was left of him.

She wouldn't allow it. Maybe she hadn't been there the first time when death and brutality had dragged him down to the deepest, darkest pit of hell and spit him back out a shell of who he was. But she was here now. And she would fight rabid dogs before she saw it claim the rest of the man that she had come to acknowledge as the most important thing in her life now.

She drew back her arm and slapped him.

His eyes registered shock, and the blank look disappeared to be replaced with one of incensed outrage.

"No!" she told him with a voice full of tears. "No, you don't Eric Forman. _Don't_ do that. It's not your fault."

She rose to her tip-toes and cradled his face in her hands, already soothing away the sting of the slap. "Please… You can't keep doing this to yourself."

He looked at her with a storm brewing in his eyes. "Jackie… It's just. I've only known this way. It'll eat me alive." His face was grey and he looked as if he carried the burden of the world on his young shoulders.

"It's not your fault," she repeated.

He nodded and she wondered if he really heard her. "I need to see them."

* * *

Whatever it was that he had expected from meeting with Afia and Dakarai, gratitude was definitely not one of them.

The couple were grieving the loss of their youngest son, but they had fallen to their knees to thank Eric for giving that son a living chance. Dakarai had been beside himself that Eric had managed to save his wife, and with regards to his son, their sense of loss was deep, but they had been thankful to at least have been able to hold Desta one last time before he had succumbed to the amount of smoke he had already inhaled and his lungs gave out.

Eric was torn... and floored.

He felt that he didn't deserve their kindness towards him, that he didn't deserve anything but scorn and disgust from them.

They however, saw things differently, and as with their people, had a very fatalistic approach to life. They offered their thanks to the heavens for blessing them with the joy of knowing, and the time that they had, with their young son, and that that same son was being spared a far worse suffering than the one that had claimed him had he been burnt to death in the fire instead.

For the latter, they were immensely grateful to Eric for, for they saw it that Desta had never been meant to live longer than he had, and that it was because of Eric that he had been able to die peacefully in his parents' arms, instead of frightened and alone and in excruciating pain in the flames of a fire.

If anything, Afia blamed herself, for it was because of her carelessness that the fire had started in the first place.

Eric could understand, and for the most part, he could see how they viewed the circumstances. It didn't matter one whit to Eric though. He still took it on himself that he could have saved Desta, but he didn't. He could have saved the Ethiopian babies, but he didn't.

He was quiet and withdrawn, and he spent the next few weeks recovering and regaining his strength.

Having Jackie there with him helped, it meant so much, for she alone stopped him from going down the same dark path of guilt and despair.

She was there with him with her soothing touches when he wanted to rage and howl against the injustices of the world, she was there with him with her very presence to hold him when he was consumed with feelings of powerlessness and failure.

She didn't push him. Didn't force him to share or talk about it or anything like that and he loved her all the more for it. For everything that he was going through was his cross to bear, and he knew that only he could find a way to redeem himself of it.

Morathi came by everyday.

He came by and he sat with Eric, and he talked to Eric, and he shared his wisdom with Eric.

But this Eric had been through hellfire and back, and what he had endured the first time had tempered him with steel. Perhaps it was because of Jackie. Or perhaps, because he saw the world differently now, or perhaps simply because he wasn't the same person he was before. But he was stronger, and despite all that he had gone through, and the horrors he had endured he knew that he had to try to start to move on.

It could be because he had no choice, no choice but to move forward, and what Morathi said to him had resonated deeply within him.

He had waved his cane around and fixed Eric with a stare so intense that Eric could not have looked away from him at that time.

"You have ta be strong. For da heavier yer heart gets, da heavier da truths dat weigh on yer soul and da darker da sights dat burn into yer eyes, da stronger you have ta be ta carry on. Ta carry all of eet around.

"Be strong," Morathi had told him, and tapped him gently on the temple with his cane. "Up here," he indicated, and then moved the cane to rest against Eric's heart. "And in here."

He brought the cane back towards him to rest his wrinkled hands upon and gave a deep sigh. "Eet's the only way ta move on. Life ees hard sometimes, and men have ta be stronger. Eet ees da way of our people, eet ees da way of our life."

He smiled a tiny and weary smile. "Only you can help yer-self, young Air-reek."


	38. Chapter 38

Day by painful day, week by painful week passed, and Jackie was by Eric's side for every second of it, changing bandages, applying salves, and making sure he got enough to eat and to sleep.

She was there with him when the pain and a raging fever made him delirious, and mired him in memories of Ethiopia where she learnt in the bits and pieces that he had inadvertently revealed, that after Kwame and the men knocked him out he had been bound injured and bloodied to a post somewhere in the village, to stop him from interfering even more with their sacred practices.

Her stomach had clenched at the image of that, and she crooned and she soothed and she sang to him as she sponged him down. Slowly she brought him away from the shadows of his memories; holding him to reality, coaxing him to stay with her.

As Eric trashed and struggled through a haze of hallucinations and fitful dreams, Jackie pieced together that he had continued to fight them while bound and refused attention to his cracked ribs and knife wounds until someone had to knock him out again so they could attend to him.

She fought tears as she spooned water past his parched lips, and feathered her fingers on the jagged and raised scar under his jaw, and pressed kisses to his heated forehead and eyelids.

The day came when Ebele announced that it was time to slough off the dead tissue on his back so that new skin could grow under it.

"Take it, Eric," Jackie had begged him, holding out the milky liquid with trembling fingers, for she had heard stories from Kitty about this, and she knew that it would be excruciating.

He had refused with a sharp shake of his head, and accepted the piece of bark Ebele handed him wordlessly. And that was that.

Ebele began, and Jackie saw him turn instantly white as he bit down on the piece of bark he had slid between his teeth. Sweat popped out on his brow and a fine trembling took over his body. It soon became an uncontrollable shaking, the veins in his arms straining in his agony, and Jackie sank to her knees on the gritty floor before him, tears coursing down her face as she fisted both his hands in hers.

"Look at me, Eric. Look at me," she whispered, compelling him with her eyes alone to tap on to her strength and her energy.

They did this every day for several days and when it was done, the insides of Jackie's cheeks were as ragged and raw as the skin on his back had once been. Somehow, Ebele had worked a miracle with her herbs and poultices and practices and methods, or perhaps it was Eric himself and his determination to prevail; but with each passing day as his back knitted itself back together, he tried to do the same with his soul. For him, but mostly, for her.

An elaborate burial rite was conducted for Desta, one which the whole village was in attendance and participated in. It was a beautiful ceremony, foreign yet familiar to Jackie at the same time. They chanted, they danced, and their drums beat out a solemn tattoo, a grieving _ba boom ba boom_ that Jackie felt all the way to the deepest corners of her heart.

They mourned their dead, and Jackie mourned with them, heart wrenching and aching for the smiling boy that had come to mean so much to her, and for his mother whom she had truly come to consider as a close friend. She stood together with them, a part of them; so different and yet so alike; and she had never felt so much like she belonged before in her life.

Eric stood beside her, stoic and stone-faced, but his fingers gripped hers with an almost bruising force, and she alone knew of his inner struggle. She saw emotion overtake him only once, when they lowered Desta into the ground; a slight shudder to his shoulders, a flicker of his eyelids, a sudden intake of breath.

She pressed her body into his, and he pressed his back into hers, and together they leaned on each other, and together they supported each other.

She didn't see him shed a single tear, but three days later she found him wild-eyed and shaking with grief, on his knees on the ground, a broken glass that once held water smashed in his fist.

She flew towards him, an almost inhuman cry tearing out of her, and held his haggard face between her hands, uncaring of blood from his hand seeping into the linen of her dress.

"Eric, please," she cried, "Don't." Tears fell down her face and splashed onto her lap, mingling with his blood as it dripped from his hand. "Don't do this alone, you're not alone." She stroked his face with her thumbs and swiped furiously at snot and tears from her own. Her voice came out broken and hoarse as she choked out, "I was there. I knew him, Eric. _I knew him too_."

He met her eyes, and she saw something in them change, and suddenly he was cradling her in his arms and rocking her in return.

"I'm sorry, Jackie," he whispered in cracked tones. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his face, crying into his skin. She thought of Ethiopia and Desta. He might not have saved their bodies, but she believed that he had given them all something even more than that. He had given the people who had loved them more than what they would have gotten. She thought of herself, and how he had saved _her_. She pulled back and pulled his face down to hers, staring deep into his green eyes with her own dark ones. "Don't ever be sorry for _anything_ again."

He looked back at her with feeling, and they mourned together, and with each other, drowning all their sorry's and sorrows in the safety of each others' arms.

"Have you thought of going back there? Ethiopia," she asked him quietly much later as she sat by the table carefully removing glass chips embedded in the skin of his palm.

The candlelight flickered and threw orange shadows up on the walls. Jackie reached over and pulled the kerosene lamp closer so she could see better. She glanced up at him as he didn't answer, and continued gently, "To... bury your ghosts."

She saw a muscle tic in his jaw, and rubbed the backs of her fingers against the inside of his wrist soothingly. "You don't have to answer, Eric."

He didn't.

But she hoped she had gotten to him, but she knew that if he didn't, and continued to carry them for the rest of his life, if he let her, she would willingly carry it together with him.

* * *

Every day, just before sunset, they would make their way slowly and on Eric's part — stiffly, to the little spot just outside the village, under the spreading umbrella of the tree that overlooked the endlessness of the crop fields on the right, and denseness of the forest to the left.

She had taken over his classes in the meantime, most of them anyway, and had fallen in love with it.

She had been nervous at first, for she didn't want to let them down and let Eric down, but after she overcame her initial reservations and insecurities, and just let herself be, she found that she had a sort of affinity for it.

She had none of Eric's propensity for structure and logic nor his brand of level-headed calm, but she more than made up for it in liveliness and creativity and a knack for telling stories that held them all spellbound.

The children loved her, and she loved the children in return; the exuberance of their banter, the enthusiasm in their questions and their wide-eyed and toothy grins.

"Miss Jackie! Tell us about yer country!" They would ask her, always fascinated and ever curious about places away from their own.

And Jackie would hop on the teacher's table, arrange her skirts around her, and regale them with stories of Red and Kitty, of Fez and Donna, of Hyde and Kelso, and all about the land of Red, White and Blue.


	39. Chapter 39

Time passed, and Eric was up and hard at work in the fields and at the schoolyard again.

Despite the tenderness of the new skin on his back, and pain every now and then, Eric was able to more or less resume his previous activities, provided he exercised caution not to overexert himself.

Jackie was wonderful at making sure that he took breaks and rested though, and fussed around him, taking care to ensure he stayed hydrated, and that he didn't reopen wounds that have taken a month to knit itself back together.

It had been yet another month later, and Jackie was still in Africa.

It was more, so much more than the week-long trip that she had initially planned for and all that Eric had allowed himself to hope for.

He hammered the last of the metal poles into the ground and stood back to admire the brand new climbing frame that he had installed in the school yard. He heard cheering behind him and turned to look, shielding his eyes with his forearm in the blinding light of the day time sun.

Jackie stood off by the edge of the low retaining wall with a crowd of Eric's students with her. Saturday classes were hers now, and Eric and the children were happy to have her take them.

She had seen Eric in the distance from the schoolroom and feeling a sudden overwhelming need to be near him, had dismissed the class earlier and took the whole lot of them down to the school yard with her. They had arrived just in time to see him complete the climbing frame and the children had broken out in whoops and cheers.

Eric's eyes met hers over the distance and she smiled into them. He beckoned the kids over with his arm and they ran towards him, giddy with excitement to try out the equipment that he had already finished building in the almost complete schoolyard.

Jackie flounced her skirts about her and sat down on the retaining wall, happy to watch him with the children. She saw him help the smaller kids up the tower to use the slides, and teach the older ones to use the climbing frame and to balance on the row of tires that he had dug into the ground.

The afternoon air was filled with the sound of shouts and laughter and she found herself laughing along with the children too, rejoicing in their happiness.

Eric heard her laugh and turned in her direction, finding himself charmed by the pretty picture she made sitting on the wall in a yellow sundress and her hair in a dark cloud around her shoulders. He was drawn to her, and found himself making his way over to her without much conscious thought.

She stood up as he walked over and greeted him with a soft kiss on the lips.

"How're you feeling today?" she asked him gently.

He shook his head with a small smile. "I'm fine, Jackie."

"Your back doesn't hurt?"

He gave her waist a small squeeze. "No, and I will be sure to tell you if it does."

She smacked him lightly in the chest. "No, you wouldn't, so just take it easy, okay?"

He nodded, hearing the concern in her voice.

She leaned into his side and wrapped an arm around his waist. Looking out at the yard filled with kids she gave a heartfelt sigh.

"Look at you," she murmured, "trying to save Africa, one child at a time."

Thoughts of the kids he didn't save flashed across Eric's mind for a brief instant, but then Jackie looked up at him and the purity of her smile and the pride in her eyes chased it away.

"Yeah," he said instead, "but it's not enough though, it's never enough."

The arm she had around his waist tightened. "It will be," she said determinedly, "it _will_ be."

He nodded to appease her, and tried to live in the joy of the moment at present.

* * *

As he did on many a night before, Eric laid out the blanket under the thorn tree and leaned gently against its trunk. He lifted an arm and Jackie snuggled in under it. It was a night like any other, and he closed his eyes as his fingers played with the strands of hair over her shoulder and hers traced patterns on his chest.

It was a night like any other, yet it was also different. Something had changed for Jackie. She could feel it in her body from the tingling in her skin and the shortness of her breath. She glanced up at Eric to see if he had noticed it too. He didn't appear to, and looked pensive as he stared out into the darkness.

Her hand trailed slowly up his body, from his stomach to his chest and her fingers began to trace a sensual pattern there that she could not have stopped even if she tried. He shifted slightly and she felt his breath catch almost imperceptibly as her fingers brushed across a flat nipple. She wouldn't have heard it if her head had not been resting just under his chin. He brought up his hand to catch hers, stopping their activity. A smile caught at the corners of her lips and she tilted her head instead to press kisses against the side of his neck and her tongue darted out to lick the line of his jaw.

He leaned down and smiled at her, understanding her intention now. They shared a hot kiss then, dueling with their tongues and Jackie's hands found their way under his shirt. She marveled at the ridges of his stomach and found herself suddenly desperate to feel more, to touch more. She flipped a leg over his hips and sat straddling his lap as she felt him harden beneath her bottom. Her body responded to the sensation and she felt wetness fill between her legs.

She pulled her simple tee shirt over her head and reached to do the same for him, tossing them both aside on the blanket next to them. Slowly, she began a rhythmic rocking with her hips that left a sheen of sweat popping up across his brow. She had never done anything quite so bold before.

He grasped at her hips to stop her moving, and attempted to flip her onto her back instead. She responded by unclasping her bra and shaking her breasts free in his face. He latched on to one with a low growl and his tongue did a wild dance around the tip that left her nearly purring in pleasure. She was soon desperate for more and gasped for him to stop as she got up and stripped off her shorts. Her panties soon followed and she stood naked before him.

"Come here," he muttered thickly.

She shook her head and knelt down next to him, as she ran her hands over his chest and abdomen. She bent down to kiss him, using her tongue to trace similar patterns that her fingers did earlier and reveled in the pleasure she felt when she felt his muscles tighten as her lips closed around a nipple. She did the same to him what he did to her earlier and her fingers slid down his torso to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans.

"Jackie," Eric said, and she heard the note of warning in his voice.

She ignored it and pulled down his zipper, her hand finally grazing the prominent bulge in his boxers that was him. He hissed through his teeth at the feel of her hand on him, and reached down to wrap his fingers around her wrist.

"I think you should stop there, sweetheart."

"No," she whispered back and opened her fingers to grasp him gently. He groaned and the pressure on her wrist tightened.

"Jackie," he said sounding strained. "I won't be able to hold back if you keep doing this."

"Then don't," she whispered in reply. She let go of him and pulled his boxers down, and he sprang free. "Mmmmm," she purred and before he could react, she grasped his shoulders and raised herself slowly above him, rubbing herself along him and teasing his length with the wetness of her core.

He swore. His fingers flew to her hips and dug into the flesh at their sides. "Jackie, I don't have that much control. You need to stop. Now."

She ignored him and bent down to kiss him, her hair falling in a curtain down the both of them. He lost himself in the kiss and found himself unable to deny the pleasure she was bringing him. His fingers dug into her buttocks and he told himself that he was going to stop her soon, but every time she rubbed her slick folds up and along his length, he felt himself losing that little bit of self-control.

"Jackie, God," he rasped, "I didn't bring you out here to-" He sucked in a sharp breath as she reached down and fisted her hand around him. "-Have sex with you," he finished through gritted teeth.

"I know," she said solemnly and looked down into his green, green eyes. "But I want you to."

She saw them turned dark into a grey as he registered her words. She held her breath, and shivered with anticipation.

He held her gaze with his own, looking deep into her eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked her in a low voice that was heavy with meaning.

In response, she removed her hand from where it had been between them and drew her hips up, positioning her entrance at his tip. Slowly, she slid down his length, gasping a little as she felt her muscles stretch around his thickness and welcoming the feel of him as she slowly took him into her. She saw his pupils dilate and his jaw clench as he struggled to hold himself still instead of flipping her around and pounding into her like he wanted.

"Eric," she breathed as she took him fully into her. She lifted herself up slightly and slid back down again. "Eric," she cried, as pleasure filled her at that little movement.

He sprung to life and took charge. "So damn tight," he whispered gravelly, and grasped her hips, lifting her up till he was almost out and then slamming her back down on him again. He grunted and she gasped, digging her nails into his shoulder, careful to avoid the just healed skin on his back.

He brought her up again and this time she helped him, using her thighs to bring herself up and then down again over him. They soon found a furious rhythm and her breasts bounced as she rode him and cried and gasped his name.

Eric was finding it incredibly difficult to think straight. He had wanted her for so long, and she was hot and wet and so unbelievably tight and it was his name that was falling from her lips. His.

He moved his hands to her waist to shift her on his lap at a different angle and she moaned as a fresh wave of pleasure filled her. "Eric," she whimpered needing more and he nodded, pressing kisses up her neck and covering her lips with his own. He thrust harder upward and held on to her hips, controlling her movements with his arms. She ceded to him and held on to his neck as he expertly worked to increase her pleasure and took her to soaring heights as he felt her contort around him. He rode out her pleasure until he could hold back no more, than lifted her clean off of him before he took his own release, spilling on the ground below them.

She collapsed in his arms breathing heavily and feeling his chest rise and fall with similar exertion. He held her close and pushed back her sweaty hair, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. A breeze blew past them, nice and cool on their heated skin.

"You pulled out," she said later after their breathing had returned to normal.

"Yeah, of course. After your scare last time..." he trailed off.

Last time. With Hyde. Jackie thought back to the time when she had been beside herself with fear, feeling helpless and alone. It felt like a different life time. A different her.

God, she just had sex with Eric. Eric Forman. The most mind-blowing sex; never had she felt so connected to someone. She waited for the ramifications of it to hit her, for reality to crash through, some feeling that this was weird and wrong, but all she felt was a deep peace and an acceptance.

She tilted her head up and saw that his eyes were closed in the dim light of the moon. She stretched out her naked body against his and rolled up onto him so that they were pressed together down the front and skin to skin. She folded her hands under her chin, feeling his chest rumble beneath her breasts.

"Are you staring at me?" he asked lazily, with his eyes still closed.

She nodded her head. "Uh-huh," she said and kissed his chin.

His arms came up from his sides and he wrapped one around her waist and laid the other over the curve of her bottom. "Do you regret this?" he asked her softly, opening his eyes to search the depths of her clear brown ones.

She shook her head, sending her hair rustling over her back and his torso. "No. It was amazing."

He smiled one of his rare smiles. "You're amazing," he said meaningfully. He turned his eyes skywards towards the stars and constellations and she felt him heave a contented sigh.

They lay on the ground breathing in the clean night air, listening to the chirping of crickets and the hoot of some faraway owl in the vast land.

Jackie lay on top of him, luxuriating in the feel of him under her and continued staring at him, admiring him. The line of his chin, the contour of his lips, and those eyes. Those eyes that held so much of him, of his soul. Tonight she saw the stars up above reflected in their green depths, and for some reason she couldn't look away.

He must have felt her staring still, for he looked down and caught her gaze. He smiled another little smile and she felt the earth shift.

It would only be years later, when she got lost in memories and thought of this moment with Eric; the stars of the night sky above them, and the crisp scent of the Acacia flowers on the wind, that she recognized that had she been just a little less misguided about the illusion of loyalty with Steven Hyde; she would have known that she had already fallen deeply in love with his best friend.

If she had only known, and just been that little less misguided. She would have caused them both a whole lot less heartache and pain.


	40. Chapter 40

They made love every night after that. She couldn't get enough of him and it was the same way for Eric. The only difference between them was that Eric was absolutely clear about his feelings for Jackie and harbored no guilt or reservations about them towards her.

For Jackie, things were a little murkier.

After that very first night together out under the stars, and she was the happiest that she had been, it was as if fate or the universe or something was determined to make things difficult for her. For the very next night that they came together again she had gotten up after Eric had fallen asleep and gone for a glass of water. Feeling suddenly cold, she had rummaged around her clothes in her suitcase and in the dark of the night hadn't realized that it was Steven's old Zeppelin shirt that her fingers had found first.

A chill had struck her then, and a douse of cold reality washed over her. She had stashed the shirt back at the very bottom of her suitcase with trembling fingers, and crawled back into bed with Eric, but even the warmth of his long body wasn't enough to stop the chill in her heart.

It didn't stop her from continuing to have sex with him since, for she could not deny him any more than she could herself, but each time after Eric brought her to the same heights of bliss, a little feeling that she shouldn't be feeling so happy, so _good_ about sharing such an intimacy with Hyde's best friend when she had once vowed that she would love Hyde himself forever. And there in lay another problem. Eric wasn't just any friend. He was Hyde's _best_ friend - almost brother.

Eric though, didn't see it that way when Jackie brought it up to him at bedtime one night.

"He had his chance, he blew it, he treated you like crap when you needed him most," was his grim answer. His arm tightened around Jackie's naked shoulders protectively. "You don't deserve that, no woman does."

Jackie pressed a kiss to his chest. "Steven's... Different," was her reply. Even now, she defended him.

"Not so different that he can marry someone else when he claims to love another."

She tucked her head towards her chin. It still hurt when she was reminded of Sam.

Eric noticed and nearly kicked himself. "I'm sorry," he told her softly, "that was thoughtless of me." It was, but he hadn't been thinking, and any mention of Hyde inadvertently roused his protective feelings. That, and no small measure of jealousy too.

Her fingers were cool against his chest as she rubbed it soothingly. "Don't be sorry. It led me here. And I'm happy here with you."

His heart soared and he cradled her to him. It was the first time she had ever said anything of that nature before. He leaned down and kissed her lingeringly, and feathered his thumb over her smooth cheek. Then he made love to her again, slowly and tenderly, letting her know all he wanted her to know without saying a word.

* * *

"Hey Mom."

"Eric! Oh sweetie, it's so good to hear from you, it's been so long since your last call."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry about that, Mom."

"Oh shush. I'm just happy to hear from you that's all. How're you? We all miss you back home. Did you get the things I sent over? How's Jackie?" Kitty asked, then she laughed breathlessly. "Oh excuse me, dear, I haven't let you get a single word in edgewise."

Eric smiled in affection. "Uh, everything's good. Yeah, I got the stuff, thanks. The brownies especially were a huge hit with the kids."

He glanced at Jackie who was cozied up under his left arm, her legs thrown comfortably over his lap. "Um, Jackie's good. She's right here actually. Wanna talk to her?"

Jackie held out her hand for the phone. Eric spoke a bit more into it then handed it to her.

"Hi, Mrs. Forman," she said and nestled her head into Eric's neck. He tightened his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Yeah, we're doing fine." She listened and then let out a tinkling laugh. "I do? I guess. Uh-huh. Yeah, I _am_ happier."

Kitty said something and Jackie sent a quick glance up at Eric. "Still together? Oh, that's great to hear, I'm glad for her. She's my best friend." She kept quiet for a while listening to Kitty. A crease appeared between her brows and then she jerked upright, ignoring Eric's yelp of protest as her head hit his chin.

"Bar fight?" she asked incredulously, and then she exclaimed, "Jail!"

Kitty sighed on the other end of the line. This was difficult to tell Jackie, but Steven had been on a steady downward decline and the final straw had come just a few days earlier when the Point Place Police Department had finally had enough and thrown him into jail after his third bar fight of the month. And this was after the two acts of vandalism on the water tower.

The first was when he had blacked out Kelso's name and added his own in its place so the words read "Steven + Jackie" instead.

The second was when he realized what he had done on one of the rare occasions that he was semi-sober and had driven past the tower and seen what he had done. Outraged, he downed half a bottle of Jack Daniels, smoked through half a bag of pot, and proceeded to clamber up there to 'correct' what he did.

The next morning a rude caricature of Jackie had appeared next to the drawing of the pot leaf, and the 'Steven' in the "Steven + Jackie" had been furiously sprayed over with what must be at least two cans of paint.

The man himself had passed out at the base of the tower, only to be discovered the following morning by Donna and Randy, who had been despatched by Kitty to look for him when she realized that he hadn't been home that night. They couldn't wake him, and in a panic had driven straight to the hospital in fear that he may have overdosed.

They found out that he had a concussion and a huge egg-sized bump on his head, which he had probably obtained when he passed out on top of the water tower and accidentally rolled off the edge in his sleep. He was hospitalized for a day and recovered well enough, though it was a wonder that he hadn't broken his own neck.

Whenever he was at home though, he was, as usual, drunk off his ass, which didn't bother Red so much if he was quiet and stayed out of his way, but he wasn't, and when really drunk, Hyde was loud. Loud and howling Jackie's name.

In the middle of the night.

Most of the time it would be in anger, indignation or resentment. But there was once when Kitty had gone downstairs to settle him instead of Red, and amidst the empty cans and halo of smoke (plant origin unknown) around him in the basement, she found him crying over a picture of Jackie, and recognized it as the one that Jackie had given him when she had redecorated his room for him. She left him alone, but her heart ached for him. The poor boy who had been abandoned at such a young age, and who would rather destroy what he loved best rather than face the pain of losing it.

"Honey," she said to Jackie gently, "I think it's time for you to come home. Steven… Steven's not doing well. And Red and I think that with you gone…" She sighed. "He's not doing well, honey," she said again by way of explanation.

Jackie felt her heart sink. "You think I need to come home."

Kitty nodded, then realizing that Jackie couldn't see her, cleared her throat and said, "Yes, sweetie."

Eric went still when he heard Jackie's words. He had more or less guessed what Kitty was saying from the play of emotions on her face, but he took the phone from her shaking fingers and spoke to his mom again just to be sure.

He was quiet when he hung up and glanced at her. "Hey," he said.

Jackie flashed him a strained smile and shook his arm gently off her shoulders, swinging her legs off his lap.

He looked away and allowed her to do so, feeling a sudden chill where he was warm before.

* * *

The next couple of days passed by in relative silence, but things between Eric and Jackie had changed. Gone was the air of content, the easy affection, the bliss that existed between lovers. They still shared a bed at night, but instead of in each other's arms, they found sleep alone on either side of the mattress.

A large black cloud also known as Steven Hyde had taken residence above their heads. They didn't refer to it, but they both knew that it was there.

Jackie was quiet and withdrawn, and Eric went through his daily motions detached and methodical, throwing himself into work, and refusing to let himself think or feel.

It came to a head on the third evening, when he woke up for the first time to discover that Jackie wasn't in bed with him. He ambled out to look for her and found her sitting just outside their hut, on the little bench where they had sat on to watch the rain fall that one evening long ago.

He leaned silently by the doorjamb and took a moment to just gaze at her. She looked beautiful in the light of the moon and stars, her hair so inky dark just like the night sky. He loved its color, and wondered fleetingly how he could ever have liked any other color before. Her hands were twisted up in her lap and he could feel conflict rolling off her in waves. He hated seeing her like this. He hated to know that she was in any sort of pain.

Somehow he supposed he had always known that it wouldn't last forever. That the day would come when it would come down to this. Hyde or him. And though he longed that she would choose him, he knew it would always be Hyde for Jackie.

He pushed off from the doorjamb and took a step towards her. "Go to him," he said, and he lost another piece of his soul as he uttered those words.

Stunned, her eyes grew wide as she turned to look at him. He saw a thousand and one emotions flit through them, along with a barrage of questions to which he had no answer. Jackie stared at him, trying to understand the meaning behind his words.

"Eric, it's not—" she started, then stopped as she changed her mind and looked down at the fingers she still had clenched in her lap. She clenched them even tighter, causing her knuckles to turn white.

"So it ends here," she stated tonelessly.

He didn't make a reply, and when she looked up, it was to find his eyes fixed on her.

She let out a brittle laugh that hitched into a sob.

"Jackie…" Eric said and made a move towards her. She held up her hand and he stopped.

"Will you come back with me?" she asked him quietly.

He didn't look away from her but he didn't reply either. They stared at each other for a long time.

She felt something wash over her. With a great sense of unease, she ventured, "You're not… You're not coming back are you?"

Eric looked away. A brief wind ruffled the short strands of his dark hair as his eyes took on a pensive cast. When they finally turned back to her, she read a finality in them that scared her far more than she thought possible.

"No. My place is here."

Her breath lodged in her throat. She turned her face away, fighting back a rising tide of emotions and denial.

"Does your mom know?" she finally asked him in a low voice.

He shook his head. "I don't think I've ever really realized that until now," he said. "My place is here," he repeated. "I love it here. This is home to me now."

She took in his words and blinked back tears. A deep sense of loss assailed her and she didn't know why. After all, what did she expect? What did _they_ expect?

A relationship or anything at all between them would never have been able to work out of Africa. There were too many people that would get hurt, too many factors to consider, and now that she knew that Eric didn't intend on returning to Point Place, there was a whole ocean standing in the way as well.

And Steven _needed_ her.

She drew in air. "At least… Maybe Christmas?" she asked bleakly.

He wasn't sure. Point Place was part of his past, and he wasn't the person that he was anymore. To go back and try to wear those shoes again... His jaw tightened.

But he saw the hopeful look in her eyes. "Yeah, maybe," he said instead.

"What are you going to do?" It wasn't much as a question, but as always, he knew what she meant.

"Honestly? I don't know. I only know that things are different now. You being here has helped me so much. But there's still a long way for me to go."

"Does it have to be here?"

He looked out in the direction of the crop fields. "Yeah," he said slowly, "yeah it does. There's no place for me in Point Place anymore." His heart was heavy. "Look at me," he said softly, spreading out his arms, "you know that."

A tear slipped down her face and he reached over and wiped it off her cheek.

She shook her head. "He needs me," she said woodenly.

Eric nodded. Her words ripped his insides to shreds.

"He does," he agreed just as expressionlessly. I _need you._

A sob rose in her throat as she realized the finality of what he was saying and desperation prompted her to surge to her feet.

"Ask me to stay."

He smiled sadly. "I would, Jackie. I'd beg you to stay." He touched her face with the backs of his fingers. "But only you can make that decision. It wouldn't be true if I did it for you."

She looked into his eyes and then looked away. She knew deep down inside that she could never stay no matter how much she wanted to. Not when Steven needed her.

He knew he had lost her when she had looked away. Such a simple action. But the blow of it was staggering.

"I can't lose you as a... as a... friend," she told him, still not looking at him. "It would kill me."

Friend. His gut wrenched at her use of the word.

She spoke again. "When we started what we started, I was most afraid that it would end with the death of our... friendship. What happened here between us… It was very real for me. _You_ were very real for me." She finally turned to meet his eyes. Hers looked almost golden in the moonlight and he felt like he was drowning in them.

"Jackie, it meant the world to me."

She drew in a shuddering breath. "I wish it didn't have to end."

 _It doesn't have to,_ he wanted to tell her. _Stay with me._

But he knew she wouldn't. Not for him.

She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. She failed and several leaked out from the corners of her eyes.

"Hey, come here," he murmured.

She sobbed out his name and hurtled into his open arms, burying her face in his chest.

"Thank you," she said brokenly, "for everything." She lifted her head. "For being there… For everything here. And for being my... my friend." She clutched at his arm, desperate for his assurance. "Please, Eric, don't ever stop being my friend."

A shadow flit across his features and his jaw tightened. She saw it and she panicked. Her hand came up and she laid it against his jaw, feeling the slight prickle of stubble under her palm. "Promise me, Eric. I can't… I can't lose you." Her breath hitched, "Not you."

He met her eyes fleetingly and he gave her a tight smile. He noticed the distress in her eyes and sighed inwardly, finding, as always, an unquenchable need to play her white knight and quell it.

He rubbed his jaw into her palm and reached out to stroke her cheek with his finger. He brought it to her lips and tugged at the fullness of the bottom one. He blew out a breath then, giving her a short nod, and found it within himself to say the words he knew she wanted to hear.

"Yeah, Jackie. Always."

She smiled in relief and lightly nipped at his finger still resting on her bottom lip. She moved forward to twine her arms tightly around his lean waist, and her head found its way to its usual spot between his shoulder and neck. He rested his chin on the top of her head and she felt the steady beat of his heart between them.

She breathed in his intriguing mix of wood and spice and earth, and wondered why it was that she felt as if her heart was slowly being torn into two.

And why it was that the light that had so briefly returned to her life seemed to be going out again.

* * *

The drive to the airport was a quiet one, and they were both silent for different reasons. Their hands had found one another's and Jackie had had a death grip on his fingers.

Their last night together had been wild and tempestuous. Jackie had woken up hot and flushed, her hands gripping the sheets and her body rippling with the most delightful sensations.

"Eric," she gasped and saw him flash her a dark grin from between her legs.

Sidling slowly up her body he had seized her mouth in an intense kiss that left her feeling branded and aching for more. She had responded in a flurry of emotion, clinging on to his lips and licking and nipping and she was certain that she had drawn blood at one point.

When he had finally settled himself between her thighs, he wound her hair tightly around his wrist and cupped the back of her head forcing her to look up at him. His green eyes bored into hers with such emotion she felt her breath catch. She had whispered his name and she saw something in them give. She arched her back towards him and whispered his name again. Looking deep into her eyes he drove into her with such force she cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, wrapping her legs tightly around his hips, deathly afraid of letting him go.

It had been like nothing she had ever experienced before — fierce and primitive and she never wanted the night to end. Her eyes had flown shut when he had plunged into her and he leaned down to press kisses on her eyelids and nip at her jaw.

"Jackie," he commanded, "look at me."

She opened her eyes and complied. It was only then that he moved, never once allowing her to look away from him; taking her to dizzying heights and they came together, lost in the tumult of sensations and fell asleep in each other's arms, with Eric still buried deep within her.

When they had finally reached the airport, Jackie had been struggling not to fall to pieces. Eric had made sure that she had gotten past immigrations before he had turned round to walk back out towards his car. He didn't look back. He made the two hour drive back in half the time, and he was lucky he didn't wrap his car around a tree, the way he was driving.

The next week or so he spent filling up the hole her absence had left him with with too many cigarettes and too little sleep. He didn't touch a drop of alcohol. Not for this — alcohol incapacitated, and he hated being out of control.

More importantly though, he wanted to remember.

He wanted every waking moment of his to be filled with a memory of Jackie when she had been there, together with him, in Africa.

* * *

 ** _A/N_** : I wanted to take a moment to say THANK YOU to all of you who have loved this story and have taken the time to read it and to let me know that you loved it. It's been so much fun taking you together with Jackie and Eric to magically magical Africa, and I'm glad you enjoyed reading (thus far) about it as much as I did writing it.

This story was never meant to end in Africa, and everything will come full circle in Part 3 which will bring everyone together again in Point Place. I'll be posting the first few chapters within the week, and thanks so much again! ( It means more than you can possibly know :))


	41. Chapter 41

**III**

 **After Africa**

Jackie walked down the steps to the basement. It had been nearly five months since she last stepped foot in here, and it felt like a lifetime ago. She felt different, she _was_ different. Her thoughts and views had changed. Her entire perspective on life had changed.

She wanted different things.

She felt different things.

She heard the voices of her friends laughing and arguing about something and she smiled, because in spite of everything that happened, she loved her friends and she missed them. She stood outside for a moment just enjoying the moment, for she knew that if she were to step foot into their sanctuary, the easy camaraderie between them would evaporate on account of her being there.

She was never really part of the group, she acknowledged that now. At first, it was because of Michael, and then Steven. When Michael left and Steven turned on her, Donna turned on her too, to welcome the latest 'girlfriend' into the group, or 'wife' in Sam's case. Without an anchor to the main members of the group, she became redundant — a loose thread. Because at the core of it, Donna and Fez would always pick Hyde over her; their bonds had been formed way before she had ever set foot in their lives. She ached a little at that, but accepted it, and thus, she squared her shoulders and pushed the basement door open.

"Hey guys."

Conversation ceased so abruptly it was almost comical as they turned as one to look at her.

Donna was on the couch, but she leapt to her feet as soon as she saw who it was.

Fez was on the other end of the couch, closest to the door, trying to catch M&Ms that Hyde was throwing at him with his mouth.

Randy was absent, but Steven, as usual, was in his chair.

She gave them all a tiny wave and spared a small smile for Steven. She couldn't see his eyes, but she could tell from the way he stiffly set the M&Ms down to fold his arms and lock his jaw that he was wound up.

"Hey," she said again awkwardly, not quite sure how to bring back the easy banter that was going on before she walked in. "So, what have you guys been up to?"

The look on the Donna's face was forbidding. "Where the hell've you been?" she demanded.

"I, uh, away?" Jackie ventured a little nervously.

Donna's eyebrows pulled sharply down in a ferocious scowl. "Don't give me that. We know you went to Africa!" she yelled.

Jackie turned accusing eyes towards Fez. He threw his hands up in surrender. "I didn't do anything," he cried. "They figured it out! I warned you!"

Jackie looked back at Donna trying to think of something to say. She had known that they had been mad that she was in Africa, but Donna looked pissed. Really, really mad.

Uncertainty filled her, and she felt like a back-stabbing traitor for everything that had happened with Eric.

"Yeah! Yeah, we know," Donna flung at her. Her chest was heaving and she seemed to be struggling mightily with something. "I don't believe this," she said shaking her head. "Are you— I just— Gah!"

Finally reaching a decision, she planted her hands on her hips and took a menacing step towards Jackie, who took an instinctive step back.

"Did anything happen between you and Eric!" she asked, but it came out more as a shrill scream than anything else.

Stunned into a response, Jackie blurted the first thing that popped into her head. "Nothing!"

It was an outright lie, and her eyes widened as her very being protested and Jackie wanted to take it back the moment she heard it fly out of her mouth.

But those words died on her tongue when she saw the look of instant relief that flooded Donna's face, and a little of the manic hostility in her eyes faded. Donna buried her face in her hands and flopped back down on the couch. Her voice, when it came out, was muffled through her fingers.

"God, I've been driving myself crazy with thoughts of something happening between the both of you."

Jackie heard a little sniff and when Donna took her face out of her hands, she saw that her eyes were red.

"I can't, Jackie. Okay? _Thank God_... It would have killed me if you and Eric..." She broke off and shook her head, trying to get her emotions in order. "I don't even want to _think_ about it."

Guilt, thick and heavy, swirled through her body. "Donna wait-"

Donna held up a hand. "Forget it. Just— I know I haven't been the best of friends for a while, but," she stopped and turned her body to meet Jackie's eyes, "let's try again, okay?"

 _God. What could she say to that?_ Swallowing past the acrid taste in her mouth, Jackie moved past Fez to take a seat next to Donna on the couch. She folded her hands in her lap and her eyes were troubled, but when she answered her friend, all she said was, "Yeah, Donna, okay."

Donna reached over to pat her folded hands and offered her a tiny smile, which Jackie returned with a tinier one of her own.

There was a harsh scraping of metal on the concrete ground and they both looked over as Hyde threw his chair back.

"I don't know why you were so worried," he said to Donna.

He turned to walk towards his room in the back before either of them could tell how relieved he was upon hearing Jackie's answer regarding Eric too. He knew it — Eric would never be attracted to someone like Jackie.

But the possibility of the both of them had stuck in his craw ever since Donna had voiced the question, but he had refused to entertain it at all, downing beer after beer if the mere thought of it appeared in his mind. It had been agony, and along with the physical _hurt_ that Jackie's sudden disappearance in his life had caused him, his parting shot was deliberately laced with spite and malice.

"She's already been around half the group once. And Forman doesn't do leftovers."

Jackie felt the breath leave her body in one fell _woosh_. As an insult, it had compounded on all her insecurities and drilled a hole straight through her heart. _Breathe breathe breathe._

Jackie felt Fez's hand squeeze her shoulder. Donna frowned after Hyde and opened her mouth to say something, but Jackie caught her hand to stop her. She shook her head, and gave Donna a tight smile.

His room door slammed shut.

"It's okay. I get it," she said. "I was hoping that things between us would have gotten better, but I realize that I've got my work cut out for me."

"What do you mean?" asked Donna.

She blew out a breath and sat back on the couch. "Look. The thing is, it's... Steven. And he's really hurting right now, I see that now. I came back because I was worried about him."

She leaned her head back on the back of the couch and closed her eyes tiredly. "And trust me, it was really difficult to do because I loved it over there."

She felt Donna stiffen next to her and wondered if she had yet again said the wrong thing. She sighed inwardly, sick of catering to so many others' feelings. Opening her eyes, she turned them to her friend.

"Donna, look," she said softly. "Things were hard for me here, and when Eric asked me to go, I didn't really think, I just went."

This was difficult for Donna to digest, and Jackie could see it.

"Why would he invite _you_ , when he's never even asked _me_?" she eventually asked in an injured tone.

Jackie didn't know if she meant it as a rhetorical question, but decided to bite the bullet and answer her honestly. "We'd been writing each other for almost a year before I went. He's become a dear friend."

Donna's eyes registered her shock, and even Fez's hand stilled over the bag of candy on the table that he had stretched out to take.

"You and Eric. _Friends_?" He gaped at her.

Jackie's eyes swept between the both of them. What she and Eric had was special, and very, v _ery_ important to her. So soon after leaving him, his physical absence in her life was still a raw, open wound. She wasn't sure what to say now, and wasn't keen on talking about him, or about them, to anyone.

She nodded shortly and then changed the subject instead. "How're things with Randy?" she asked.

Before Donna could answer though, the basement door swung open and Randy himself swept in.

Jackie nearly swooned. Not only did he have glorious hair, he seemed to have possessed a sense of _impeccable_ timing as well. He made his way over to Donna for a kiss in greeting and Jackie seized that as an excuse to vacate her seat for him. She stood up and made her excuses then fled up the basement stairs.


	42. Chapter 42

Jackie went about her life, and though she tried to hold on to her time in Africa with Eric, it inexorably started to take on a dreamlike quality. She thought about him very often, and found him invading her thoughts at every turn. She continued to write him; but in the time that she was back, she never received a reply. It hurt her badly, but true to her nature, she never gave up and never stopped writing.

Her friendship with Donna was on the mend, and she couldn't even begin to put into words how much she missed her friend's company. Like she promised, Donna was putting in an immense amount of effort to rebuild bridges that had been crumbling between them.

Jackie treasured the effort, and took pains to make sure that it was reciprocated. She couldn't however, seem to recover the old, easy closeness that existed between them before, and despite her efforts, she couldn't get past the lie that she had told Donna about her and Eric.

She kept telling herself that it was over, and there were eight thousand miles between Eric and her, and it would serve no purpose to dredge up a piece of the past that would be better left buried and firmly entrenched where it was: in the past.

But her heart protested — her affair with Eric definitely didn't feel 'in the past' to her, and she tried to remind herself that it was what it was: simply an affair. They were lonely and hurting and they had turned to each other.

It didn't help matters that Eric had thrown up a wall and there was complete silence from his end.

She hurt, she ached. She couldn't get him out of her mind. And the nicer Donna was to her, the guiltier Jackie felt, and she doubled up her efforts to be the best friend she could ever be to Donna.

* * *

Jackie picked her way delicately through a mountain of empty beer cans and half empty bottles in Steven's basement room. The heel of her boot came down on something squishy and she grimaced.

The room smelled rank, and she wrinkled her nose. Crossing over to his cot, she spied a pair of neon purple crotchless panties half under it.

Definitely not hers, and she didn't want to know whose either. She kicked it out of sight.

"Steven," she whispered, bending down to shake his shoulder gently. "Steven."

Kitty had invited her over for Sunday lunch — as she had the weekend before, after Jackie got back from Africa.

Steven had come home when she was helping Kitty with the dishes, and they saw him stumbling across the driveway to the basement outside from the kitchen sink. She turned in time to see Kitty throw Red a worried look.

"Leave the boy be, Kitty," Red said from the kitchen table.

"But Red, I don't think he even _eats_!"

"He's a big boy. When he's hungry, he'll eat."

"That's just it, Red. I don't think so!"

Red sighed and put down his coffee. "Kitty, the boy made a choice. He's dealing with it — let him deal. Don't baby him. It won't shape character." He picked up his mug and walked to the sink. "Now put that tray down."

She shot him a beseeching look. "But, _Red_!"

He sighed again and took the tray from her. "He'll come up when he's hungry," he repeated, and put the tray down on the counter before walking out the door.

Kitty turned to Jackie.

She nodded. "I'll go check on him, Mrs. Forman," she said.

Which was just what she was doing now as she nudged him again.

"Steven."

He let out a groan and opened one blue eye behind his aviators. When he saw that it was her, both eyes flew open. Surprise came first, then he glared.

Jackie sighed, tired of such hostility barely halfway into the day. She gave him a glass of water. "Here, have some."

He tried to push himself up on his elbows, but his head swam. Jackie saw him turn green and reached for the wastebasket by the dresser to hand it to him. He turned and hurled into it.

She sat down next to him on the cot and rubbed his back. The acrid stench of vomit filled the air but she steadfastly ignored it. When he was done, she handed him some tissues and handed him the water. He rinsed his mouth and spat into the bin, then pushed it as far away from her as he could without getting out of bed.

"Better?" she asked quietly.

He ignored her and fell back into bed, closing his eyes.

Jackie drew in a breath, staring at him. "Steven," she asked him softly, "why're you doing this?"

Hyde tried to block out the sound of her voice, her scent, her presence. His tongue felt thick, his head hurt and it felt like there were needles behind his eyelids. And to add insult to injury, he was deeply embarrassed that she had been there to see him hurl his guts up. Maybe if he shut his eyes and pretended she wasn't there then she would disappear and he could pretend the whole thing never happened.

A minute passed. Then two. He felt her get up and rejoiced. A moment later she was back, and he felt her sweep his hair off his head and place a cool towel on top of it. His gut twisted.

"Go away," he growled.

"No. Not until you tell me why. _Why_ are you doing this to yourself?"

"Why the fuck did you go to Africa?"

She was stunned. _How could he not know?_

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Looking down at him sprawled over the cot, she shut her eyes briefly and took a breath.

"Steven," she began evenly, "things were… hard for me here. I needed an out. When Eric asked me to go, I didn't really think, I just went."

"You're sayin' _Forman_ asked you to Africa," Hyde said tonelessly.

"Yeah."

He was furious. He opened his eyes and yanked the towel off his head.

"That's a load of crap and you know it," he snapped and flung it across the room. "You two aren't even _friends,_ man. Forman hates your guts." He glared at her. "Truth is, you left town to go bawlin' to Africa 'cos none of us wanted you here. Forman probably had no choice 'cos you wouldn't leave. Like a fuckin' cyst."

 _Don't cry don't cry don't cry._

"It's not like that," she said quietly, amazed at the amount of hurt his words could still cause her.

"Whatever."

He swung his legs off the bed and pushed past Jackie. He was a little unsteady as he staggered to the bathroom, but he made sure he took the trash can of vomit along with him.

* * *

She was back in Steven's bedroom two days later, going through his usual hiding places for his stash and throwing them out.

Donna was standing by the doorway, watching as Jackie meticulously scoured the room, with an amused expression on her face.

"Aren't you afraid that he's gonna kill you?"

Jackie shrugged, and with some difficulty, managed to lift the corner of his mattress up. Before she could take a peek under though, she lost her grip and it flopped back down into place. She huffed and planted her hands on her hips, shooting Donna and irritated glare.

"Jeez. Don't just stand there, help me get this up."

Donna made her way over, and with a lot less effort, lifted it up for Jackie to stick her head under and emerge triumphantly with a brown bag.

She shook her hair back and crowed, "There. That makes three and I know for a fact that Steven never keeps more than three separate bags around at each time. Something about keeping it fresh or whatever."

"Hyde's gonna be _so_ pissed when he can't find them and he wants to get high."

A mutinous look came over Jackie's face and she set her jaw. "Well, that's just too bad. I'm not gonna sit back and watch him turn into a dope head as well as a drunk."

She threw the brown bag into a black trash bag where the other two bags that she had previously dug up were taking residence.

"He's got so much potential. It's _not_ going to waste. Not on my watch," she muttered.

She gave a last glance around Steven's room, the room where she had spent so many happy memories together with him, and was surprised that she wasn't assailed with that same crippling pain that used to cut her in two. She found Donna watching her contemplatively.

"What?" she asked, almost defensively.

Donna lifted her shoulders in a brief shrug. "Nothing. I was just thinking. Well, you must really love him. Hyde, I mean," she clarified.

"Well, yeah, Donna. Of course I do." She turned to march out of his room.

"Now if he would only get off his ass and _do_ something with that potential," she grumbled, stopping to pick up a pack of cigarettes and tossing it into the trash bag to join Steven's other favorite brown-bagged vices.

For the most part, her efforts to clean up Steven's act seemed to be working somewhat, for when he couldn't find any of his brown baggies and his store of cigarettes seemed to be dwindling somehow, he ended up in the Camino heading straight for Grooves, where he always kept spares handy. Grooves, however, being the only record store in Point Place, would always be teeming with customers, and he would find it hard to light up or toke up when there were so many people clamoring for his time and attention. So Jackie's weekly raids on his bedroom and the basement were a secret source of satisfaction to her.

On his part, he seemed to be taking the loss of his precious possessions remarkably well, or as well as can be expected anyway, albeit with much cursing and stomping about the basement, and promising to rain retribution down with a vengeance on whoever the thief was.

Jackie's efforts with Steven himself, on the other hand, seemed to be at a stalemate, for try as she did, Steven never did ease up on his hostility toward her. She didn't understand it, and she knew she was fast approaching the point where she just simply couldn't do it with Steven anymore. This thing she had with him was like a racket game: He was the racquet and she the ball. He controlled everything; sending her in every direction just to see if she would for him, and was gratified she always seemed to bounce right back to him.

Africa had given her a new take on life; and because she couldn't control the thing with Steven, she decided to roll with it, and though it still hurt her when he was cruel or snide, she told herself to be less bothered by his attitude towards her. She just wanted him to ease off on the dope, the alcohol, and the smokes anyway, and find some direction in his life, and she definitely was making headway on most of those counts.

She had been back a month before she got the letter that added a much-needed boost to the relative bareness of her existence.

Her first instinct was to call Eric to blurt out the good news, but her previous calls to him had all been rerouted.

She was sick with worry and had called his sponsorship program looking for answers, and learnt that he had asked for a sabbatical.

 _A sabbatical?_

For how long, she had asked.

He didn't say, came the reply.

 _Why didn't he tell me?_ She wondered and worried some more.

A call to Mrs. Forman had allayed her worries some, for Eric had called to tell her that he was going off the grid for a while, to 'get himself sorted'. _Whatever that means, a hahahaha!_ It had sent her mood straight down the toilet for days after that — that he had called his mother but not her.

She shook off the memory and pulled out her letter pad instead, determined that he be the first person she told the news to even if he wouldn't be reading about it for awhile.

 _Dear Eric,_

 _I got offered a job at the Wisconsin News Network! I just wanted you to be the first person that I shared the news with. You've believed so much in me and it was because of what you said that got me applying for the job in the first place. Can you believe that it's been more than a year and a half since we first started writing each other? I cannot put into words how much it means to me._

 _I hope that wherever you are, you're finding whatever it is that you need to find._

 _I hope you write a reply to this one. Or just_ call _me, Eric, okay?_

 _I really miss the sound of your voice._

Her pen hovered over the paper for several moments, before she finally heaved a sigh. She signed it off as usual with a:

 _Yours,_

 _Jackie_


	43. Chapter 43

So involved was Jackie with the goings-on in her life and preparing for her new job that it came as quite a surprise when Donna tentatively brought up the subject of Hyde with her over lunch one afternoon, and she realized she hadn't really seen her ex-boyfriend in quite a while.

"So... When was the last time you saw Hyde?"

Jackie looked up from her plate and blinked. "Dunno. A week? Two? Why?"

Donna looked uncomfortable as she chased a piece of lettuce across her plate.

"Um. Okay well, I don't know how to tell you this so I'm just gonna say it, alright?" She took a deep breath and looked Jackie in the eye. "Sam's back."

"Say what?"

Donna shifted uncomfortably and gave her a sympathetic look. "She's back, Jackie. Hyde asked her to come back."

Donna reached across the table to take her hand. "Jackie," she said, stumbling over her words, "I'm so sorry. God, he's such an 'A'-hole. I could put my foot up his ass myself. I couldn't believe it. I'm so sorry," she repeated miserably.

"Huh. Okay. I see."

"I'm so sorry," Donna said again.

Jackie frowned. "Er, don't be. It's okay."

Donna looked at her admiringly. "You're so brave."

"Um. Thanks?" She fiddled with her fork for a moment, uncomfortable with Donna's eyes on her, then awkwardly popped a tomato wedge into her mouth.

* * *

She walked over to the Forman's later that evening, thinking it was best to face the situation instead of avoiding it forever like she had planned to.

Red was not happy. And because the stripper was back, Kitty was not happy either.

Jackie was thus waging a war with the basement door trying to will it open since she couldn't bring herself to physically _open_ it. She heaved an inward sigh, and questioned herself on the reasons she was doing this.

She manfully shouldered the door open and glided into the basement with iron in her spine and her head held high. Her eyes swept the room, taking in Steven in his chair, Sam next to him, Donna on the couch with Randy behind her.

She walked over to Hyde and sat at the empty spot on the couch closest to him.

He ignored her.

She glanced at the blonde giraffe, noting that she looked good. Happy and content.

Hyde observed her from behind his shades. He knew he was a bastard for feeling so, but he relished the flash of what he thought was pain that he saw in her eyes. And because he couldn't fight it even if he tried, he slung an arm around Sam's waist, pulling her onto his lap and waited to see what Jackie would do next. _Your move, doll._

Jackie didn't react for a few beats. Then she froze her face into an expressionless mask, calmly got up and walked away.

The moment she left the room, Hyde shoved Sam away from him and stalked back into his room at the back of the basement with a beer in hand.

* * *

She didn't know how or why, but she found herself staring at the door of Eric's old room with no logical explanation as to how she got there after leaving the basement. It wasn't a conscious decision on her part, and she supposed it was really an intrusion of privacy, but she found herself pushing the door open nonetheless.

The moment she entered the room though, Eric's presence enveloped her and a sense of peace and calm flooded her being. She looked around at his old room, noting that besides the sewing table sitting by the window, the other half of the room where his bed was looked more or less the same. She trailed a hand along the cupboard and walked over to the window where the sewing machine was. Her lips twitched as she noticed it had an unblocked view of the Pinciotti's living room.

Turning around she saw the row of G.I. Joes and Star Wars models lined neatly in rows above the head of his bed. She moved over and picked one up, imagining the patience and gentleness of his deft fingers as he meticulously pieced his models together. Images of those fingers skimming the lines of body rose to her mind, and her breath caught.

She shook off the memory and went to sit on his bed. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she pulled back Kitty's new paisley bedcovers to reveal the Spider-Man sheets underneath. And with that a deep sadness filled her soul as she mourned the loss of the boy that he had been.

* * *

She awoke groggily later. Looking around the room she tried to place her surroundings and realized that she must have fallen asleep on Eric's bed.

Jackie stared unseeingly at the ceiling with her head on Eric's pillow. Her mind drifted to Hyde. Steven was the same as he had been before they left and she was sick of the games that he was playing. Still.

The sun was setting and turned the walls of Eric's room orange. She curled up and turned on her side on his bed, rubbing her face into his pillow - reluctant to leave him just yet. She watched as the sky outside turned dark and the first stars appeared.

With a sigh she dragged herself up from his bed, careful to tuck the sheets back the way they were before. Before she left his room however, she walked over to his dresser, opening a couple of drawers before finding an old shirt of his. _Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back_ , she read. _Oh Eric._ She brought it up to her face and breathed it in, then folded it and stashed it in her purse.

She gripped the edge of the doorjamb and took a deep breath. Her decision made, she steeled herself before she left Eric's room. This was going to be hard, but she wasn't the same girl she was before she left for Africa.

* * *

Jackie marched back down to the basement from Eric's room, armed and ready for battle.

Randy had left, but Donna was still seated on the couch, staring at the TV with a bored look on her face. She looked over when Jackie came down the stairs, and offered a small smile in greeting.

Jackie scanned the room and noted where Sam was seated on the ottoman in front of Hyde's chair, nestled between his legs. She walked briskly over and took a seat next to Donna on the couch. After a few tense and silent moments where she pretended to watch TV and waged an internal war inside, she took a deep breath and turned towards the couple. She forced her lips upwards.

"Hey, Sam."

It wasn't much, just a greeting, but it was a step in the right direction and she felt all the much better for it. _Forgive and forget. Forgive and forget._

Donna raised her eyebrows in shock.

Hyde stared. _What the hell was she playing at?_

Sam was equally stunned. This was the first time that Jackie had ever voluntarily spoken two words to her.

"Hey, Jackie," she replied cautiously.

Another few tense moments passed. _Crap. Now what?_

"Um, how's it going?" Jackie offered lamely.

Sam nodded slowly and eyed her oddly. "Good. Thanks," she said.

"So… Uh…" Jackie bit the inside of her cheek. She nearly tasted blood. "You look good," she said, but it came out sounding a little strangled.

She glanced over quickly and noted that Sam seemed genuinely pleased at her comment.

Another quick glance at Steven showed that he was anything but. If anything, his expression was growing more thunderous by the second, and his foot started a wild dance on the floor.

Finally, he exploded. "What the hell do you think you're doin', Jackie?" He glared at her. "You," —he pointed a finger at her— "hate _her,_ " he said, shifting that same finger to Sam.

"You two hate each other." His finger started waggling between the two of them.

Jackie sighed. "I'm trying to be supportive, Steven." She crossed her arms and leaned back into the couch. "I just see no point in adding more conflict to the situation."

A couple of beats passed as everyone tried to take in her words.

"That's really mature of you, Jackie," Donna broke in quietly.

Jackie gave her a grateful smile. She had half been expecting some snide comment about how unlike herself she was being, and was contemplating throwing another shoe at that person.

Hyde just looked incredulous. "Why?" he asked abruptly.

Jackie looked at him in consternation. "Be-cause, Steven. I care about you," she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She had come back for him. She had left Eric and come back for _him_. She owed it to herself that she actually came back for a good reason. And she owed it to him and the love that they had shared to pull him from the path of self-destruction that he had set himself down on, and steer him back on the right path.

Sam seemed to catch on pretty quick. "Omigod! So you actually thought to become friends with me?! That's _so sweet_!" she squealed.

Jackie gave her stiff smile. Yes, she really did. She thought that by extending her hand in friendship to his wife, it would be offering an olive branch of sorts. _See, Steven? You don't need to drink yourself to an early grave. I'm no longer making your marriage fiasco difficult for you._

It was gonna be hard. For she _hated_ Sam. And old habits were hard to break.


	44. Chapter 44

It was beautiful here, he acknowledged. So very beautiful.

Eric sat down on a sandy rise and rested his folded arms on his knees. A cool breeze blew past, ruffling his hair and he knew that the chill of the dawn would give way soon to the warmth of daylight.

A long body of water stretched out in front of him, glistening from east to west and meandering further than his eyes can follow. He knew that its waters flowed fast and he wondered with a sharp stab of pain when, and where, it would empty into the sea. In the forgiving light of dawn where the sun had not yet properly risen, the waters were inky-black and luminescent, softly glimmering in the light of the moon.

He thought of the silken fall of curls a similar hue on either side of his face.

He watched as cracks of a brilliant orange started in the distance where the line of the land met the dark of the sky. The cracks widened into fissures and slowly swallowed the darkness that was there before. He watched as day broke. He watched as a crimson sun rose and the waters of the river turned red.

Red.

The color of blood.


	45. Chapter 45

For the most part, Sam seemed to be settling into life back at the Formans' pretty easily. Jackie found that _if_ she ignored the fact that Sam was the one who had shown up and thrown her entire life into an upheaval, been the source of so many of her tears and pain, then she could actually be _okay_ with her. But Sam had, so despite her best intentions, she couldn't help that her guard went up the moment Sam came into a room, and despite all her lessons in Zen from Steven, and all the time that had passed, she still couldn't hide her reaction to the both of them. Together.

They were at it again. Hands all over each other. In broad daylight. In front of everyone. She didn't know which she preferred. The nauseating make-out sessions or the migraine inducing violent arguments that occurred all the time.

Fez was staring in fascination at the couple across the room. They were lip-locked in a heavy make-out session which was getting heavier by the minute. Every now and then he would call out suggestions or make lewd comments that didn't seem to bother them in the least. When Jackie saw Steven reach under Sam's skimpy top to unhook her bra she decided she had had enough.

"Oh get a room!"

They either couldn't hear her or chose to ignore her.

Donna threw a disgusted look at the both of them too. "Hyde! Jeez. You've got a room just back there!"

Jackie gave her a grateful smile, happy that Donna was on her side and marveling at how different things were this time around. She didn't know if it was because of Randy's influence, or because Donna had finally remembered the reasons why she and Jackie had been best friends when she was in Africa, but she was thankful that at least she had someone on her side again.

Donna climbed up around Randy and went to the bathroom, coming back with a glass full of water. She caught Jackie's eye with a wicked grin and Jackie stifled a giggle.

She walked over to the groping couple and dumped the water over the both of them.

They came apart with shrieks and howls of protest.

"Ooooh, wet t-shirt." Fez's eyes were glued to Sam's impressive rack. "Sexy," he said with a lascivious smile.

Hyde whipped his sunglasses off his face to flick water off it. He glared at Donna. "They're my favorite pair!"

Donna ignored him and settled herself back on the couch next to Randy, who seemed oblivious to it all. Next to them, Jackie had both hands over her mouth in a desperate attempt to mask her delighted laughter.

Hyde shot her a look of pure distaste, which she did her best to let slide.

"Hyde, honey," Sam cooed, and never really known for being particularly bright or tactful, she continued, "it's probably difficult for them to watch 'cos, y'know, they're probably _not getting any."_ She said the last three words in a loud whisper.

Fez bristled, mortally offended. "Hey, watch what you're saying, lady." He swept a hand down his body in an elaborate arc. "Women always want some of this."

Donna's reaction was interesting. She blushed a bright red and shot a cross glare at Randy.

Jackie wondered if their relationship wasn't as peachy-keen as it appeared. Vivid memories of her own last night with Eric rose unbidden at Sam's words. She felt a sharp pang and swallowed it, staring resolutely at the TV, trying to keep her expression neutral.

Hyde had been watching Jackie closely. "Yeah", he replied, his eyes trained on his ex, "yeah maybe."

Sam was still trying to brush water off her top. "Hyde, look," she whined. "I'm getting cold. My nipples are all peaked." She stuck her chest out in his face.

All the men turned as one to look.

Donna rolled her eyes and grabbed Randy's arm irritatedly. "We're leaving," she muttered.

Sam stared after them with a frown on her face. She turned to Jackie after the basement door slammed shut.

"So you've been single for a long time haven't you?"

Jackie eyed her warily, wondering where she was going with this.

Sam seemed unperturbed by her lack of answer. She continued airily, "'Cos, y'know, I was thinking, that since we're being friends now. You're not _un-_ attractive, I mean, _some_ men actually find _black_ " —she shuddered delicately— "hair attractive, and y'know, since all of us here _are_ getting some, I could, y'know, set you up with someone!"

Jackie's eyes widened.

"You could, y'know, come to the club where I strip! They're _tons_ of guys there. You might, like, meet someone!"

Hyde got up forcefully, nearly sending Sam flying off his lap.

"Shuddup, Sam."

Jackie blinked. For the first time in a very long while, Hyde and her seemed to be on the same page. Sam protested and he grabbed her roughly by the wrist and dragged her off to his room.

The door slammed and they could hear sounds of a big argument start.

Fez got up from the lawn chair and took Donna's vacated seat on the couch. Reaching for the clicker he flipped through some channels.

"Gilligan's?"

Jackie shrugged. "Okay."

* * *

Eric was running again.

Sand and stone hit the back of his calves as he pounded his way down the path, with no particular destination or direction in mind. The river rushed and gurgled its way down the channel to his left, and he increased his pace to keep up with the flow of the current.

It had taken him a lot of courage to come back here to Ethiopia, courage he didn't know that he had possessed before Jackie.

It was so surreal how the village was exactly as it was when he had first saw it; before he knew that it could house so much of the horror that he had witnessed in his last memory of the place.

Without the headdress and loin cloth, the village shaman was only a middle-aged African man.

Without the gleaming knife and the dance of firelight on his skin, Kwame was once again the young man he had harvested corn with.

The villagers recognized him, but their smiles, where once they were open and friendly, were stilted and guarded now. They remembered him from the last night he had been there, when he had tried to interfere with their sacred practices and long-held beliefs, and most were afraid that his presence was a portend to doom.

If it wasn't for the very same shaman and his hospitality, Eric wouldn't have been fed and housed as he was.

Why the man humbly offered him a bed to sleep on and food to fill his belly remained a mystery to Eric, and as uncomfortable and wary as he was of the man, Eric steadfastly refused to leave.

He needed to learn to live with his guilt. He needed to find closure. He needed to be whole.

For Jackie.

* * *

"Get rid of it!"

"No!"

"Sam, I'm warnin' you…"

"But Hyde, it's _our_ room!"

"I can't sleep with that freakin' hoodoo crap starin' at me!"

"But it's a dream-catcher, it'll give us good dreams!"

She waved the ornate piece at him. It had an eyeball woven in the middle and crossbones at the base of it. "It's art!"

They continued screaming back and forth. It had been like this for about a month now, huge fights and a lot of yelling. Jackie was getting a serious migraine. The only reason why she had been over as often as she had was because it seemed to make it easier for Eric's parents when she was there.

It had started to rain.

She could hear the crash and bang of it outside. A kind of longing filled her and she quietly left the basement to head upstairs to sit on the lounge chairs by the patio, held by the ceaseless cascade of pouring water.

 _All that is good in the world._

She stared out at it and remembered the rough mud of a wall behind her back and the feel of a warm body next to hers. She sat and closed her eyes, lifting her face so she could catch the light misting of moisture that coated her skin.

She breathed it in, and swore she could smell wood and spice and earth.

She was startled as the sliding door opened, and Hyde shuffled out, pulling her reluctantly out of her little world.

He lit up a cigarette and the air started to smell like smoke instead. Jackie sighed, feeling memories wisp and fade away like an elusive dream.

Hyde took a seat on the chair next to her, staring at her strangely.

"Since when do you like thunderstorms?"

She stared out at the pouring rain, and took her time with her answer.

"Since I grew to love the smell of the rain."


	46. Chapter 46

The rain abated some as he finished his cigarette and reached into the pocket of his jeans for another one. He stuck the second between his lips and she heard the flick of his lighter a couple of times before he got it to light up.

She looked at him and saw the tip of the stick glow cherry red as he sucked it in.

"Why are you with her, Steven?" she asked seriously.

He flicked cigarette ash into the bushes behind and brought the stick back to his lips. The tip of it burned red again. He didn't seem inclined to answer her.

"Are you happy?" she tried instead.

He blew out smoke.

"I don't do happy, Jackie."

She pursed her lips and her earrings jingled slightly as she leaned over the side of her chair to face him.

"Steven, I want you to be happy. This thing that you're doing," she gestured towards the cigarette, "your fights with Sam, and the endless drinking... Steven, you're not happy."

He tensed.

She was well-versed in the art of reading Steven Hyde and she knew she had struck a nerve. She bit her lip and braced herself for the backlash that was sure to come.

"Fuck off Jackie. Where the hell do you get off with this bullshit anyway!"

He stood up and put out his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, welcoming the sharp sting of pain.

She stood up quickly too and reached out to put a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. He was strung tight beneath her fingers and she was surprised when he did not immediately fling her hand off.

"Steven. Steven wait."

He spun around so quickly she was almost thrown off balance. Leaning in close, he growled in her face.

"You've no right. No right at all."

Tears prickled her eyelids but Jackie kept her composure.

"No, Steven. I have every right. I care about you."

She tried to see past his sunglasses, to look into the blue eyes that she had loved so much and held his gaze, willing him to look into her and willing him to know that she had not given up on him just yet. His words however, crushed what hope she might have had of them salvaging that closeness that they once had.

"Then you wouldn't have left, doll."

He turned and stalked back into the house, leaving her standing out on the patio as the sun came out and dried up all evidence of the rain that was there before.

* * *

"Hey, Donna."

Jackie took a tentative step into Donna's room. The place was a mess. Two giant suitcases sat open on her bed with clothes half strewn across them. Boxes were scattered across the floor, some taped with words like 'Books' or 'Records' scribbled across them, others had 'Charity' or 'Junk'.

"Jackie, hey."

She stepped over some of the boxes and swept her skirt neatly out from under her before she perched gingerly at the corner of Donna's bed.

"So looks like you're all set, huh," she said, looking around, and wondering how all of it was going to fit into the small apartment that Randy had asked Donna to move into with him.

Donna looked over and smiled. "Yeah. Just about."

"Your dad's gonna miss having you around."

Donna blew some of her golden hair out of her face and stuffed her fingers into her back pockets. "Yeah, he's taking it really hard."

She shook her head and looked around her room. "I'm gonna miss living here. It held some really good memories," she said as a slight smile crept across her face.

"I bet it did. Oh, and here," she said, rummaging through her purse, "here's the jewelry chain that you wanted." Her fingers closed around it and she held out a long necklace chain to Donna.

"What's it for?" she asked Donna curiously as Donna reached across to take it from her.

Two rings lay across Donna's empty desk — she saw them now. Curiosity piqued, she got up to take a closer look at them. "Omigod, did Randy prop—"

Her words died on her lips as she recognized the rings that Donna was gently stringing onto the chain. She recognized them because she had helped pay for one of them, before Eric had finally coughed up the cash to pay her back.

"You kept them."

Donna met her eyes briefly before fastening the chain around her neck, the two rings resting against her heart. She gave Jackie a small smile in response.

"Of course I did."

"You're wearing them."

Donna hung her head and rested both hands on the edge of her desk. Her voice was soft when she spoke and Jackie had to strain to hear her.

"I can't... I can't seem to help comparing them, you know. Randy and... Eric."

Donna looked up at her, torn. "I know I shouldn't. Especially since Randy and I are moving in together... And they're both so different from one another."

She sighed. "Randy's so good to me. But I can't help it... It's _Eric_ , you know."

Jackie's chest felt tight, and something ugly pooled itself at the pit of her stomach.

"Eric's not the same person he used to be," she said lightly.

Donna's eyes narrowed slightly on her. "It doesn't change anything. It's still Eric. I spent most of my life loving him. It doesn't just _die_ , Jackie."

She looked away and pulled out the rings she had previously tucked under her sweater. "I resent you, you know," she said quietly, playing with the rings. "I know it's not right and I understand why you left."

She met Jackie's eyes. "But I resent you. I hate that you know more about him now than I do. That you've spent time with him. That you were part of his life there in Africa. It's the one part of him that I'm not a part of, and I hate that you have that." Her shoulders dropped.

Donna lowered her head and slipped the rings on the fourth finger of her left hand. She twisted them absently around the finger, preoccupied with thoughts of something else.

"Jackie, did he... Did he, you know, have someone there? You know, like a girl," she asked tentatively, glancing upwards at her.

Jackie's heart leapt to her throat. Something bitter filled her mouth and she swallowed a couple of times. Glancing away she busied her fingers with the handles on her purse.

"I didn't see anyone else when I was there," she said lightly, refusing to meet Donna's eyes.

Donna gave an audible sigh of relief. "I know it's probably none of my business anymore. But I can't help feeling relieved."

She took in a deep breath and gave Jackie a small smile. Pulling the rings off her finger, she tucked them back under her sweater then picked her way over to her bed and pushed aside a suitcase to make space for her to sit. Folding her arms, she leaned over and bumped shoulders with Jackie.

"Hey midget," she said softly, "thanks for being my friend."

Jackie's return smile was a lot less genuine and a lot more forced.

"Anytime, lumberjack."


	47. Chapter 47

Eric approached the village from the east, sweat dripping off his back from his run. It had been two weeks since his return from Ethiopia.

He missed Jackie terribly, and her absence was a hollow ache in his heart and life. He saw her in the midnight of the sky, felt her in the softness of a passing breeze and caught her scent in the flowers of the Acacia tree and the sunshine of the day. Thoughts of her and Hyde rose from time to time, but he resolutely pushed them back, back with all other things that were dark and grim.

His footsteps were heavy as he approached the dark silhouettes of the many huts that made up the village. He had known that going back to Ethiopia after the year away wouldn't be any easier, but he had been unprepared for the agony of the memories that had assailed him. They had been even more vivid than his dreams of them, and upon coming back, his nightmares had returned with a vengeance.

The only difference, was that the nature of them had changed. Where once guilt, impotence and self-loathing threatened to choke the life out of him, they were now replaced by anger and a deep sort of disappointment and cynicism.

He had taken to running in the dead of the night again, running running running. But never far enough, never fast enough.

"Jambo, mah friend."

Eric glanced up, startled at the disembodied voice in the darkness.

Morathi chuckled throatily. "Eet appears dat ah have caught you off-guard. A rare occurrence indeed."

"Why're you up at this hour, Morathi?" Eric asked wearily, walking towards what he could clearly see now was the stoop of Morathi's hut. Morathi was sitting on a stool and white curls of smoke hung around his head.

"Waiting for you, Meester Air-reek."

Eric leaned against the post that supported the straw awning that extended from the door of Morathi's hut and provided the sheltered space where Morathi spent most of his time doing his craft. Eric's shoulders sagged under an invisible weight and he hung his head and stared at the shadowy ground, lost in the murkiness of his thoughts.

The sounds of the night filled the air around them, and the acrid scent of tobacco emanating from Morathi's pipe was comforting to Eric.

"Help me."

Eric's voice was low, barely audible, and there was an underlying echo of resignation, and underneath that, a touch of desperation. He turned conflicted eyes up from the ground to fix them on Morathi.

Morathi regarded him closely, and a great sadness filled his old heart. Such darkness should not belong in the eyes of one so young. He nodded his head slowly and exhaled. He pushed himself up to his feet with the help of his cane and shuffled back into his hut.

"Come."


	48. Chapter 48

Jackie pushed open the imposing double doors to what had been home to her for most of her life. The Burkhart Mansion was exactly as she had seen it last, and despite it being massive, empty and dreary, she had decided to move back in for the time-being to save money on rent.

It was the only asset leftover from her family's glory days that the bank had not seized upon — for her dad had in one of his more prudent moments, deeded it over to her mom before everything went belly-up in the corruption scandal that had him sitting pretty in jail at the moment.

She hadn't intended to ask for any help moving in or cleaning it up for that matter, to disbelieving snorts from Fez. Anyhow, he had let slip that she had intended to move back in, and Donna had told Kitty, who had strong-armed Red, Hyde and even Sam to come help her make it liveable again.

And so here they all were, one big happy family - despite Jackie's insistent protests - to help her move back in. The moment she had stepped into the mansion, however, those protests died on her lips, for it had been two years since anyone had lived there, and frankly, the place was a giant mess. Dust bunnies bred in every corner and she could've sworn that she even heard the scampering of mice, (mice!) somewhere in the house.

And so they all got to work. There had been a moment of stunned silence all round when Jackie had disappeared somewhere and re-emerged from the depths of the house with pails and mops and brooms, dressed in overalls and her hair up in a functional ponytail.

She glanced at them with raised eyebrows. "What?"

"I didn't know you even owned overalls," Donna said, still a little stunned.

"Or knew where the cleaning stuff was," added Fez.

She waved her hands dismissively. "Yeah well, seems like I do." She looked around the cavernous room, unsure where to start.

Kitty jumped in and seized control, which Jackie more than willingly relinquished. She divided the house into sections and sent them off to their relative sections. There was a brief argument about who should get which section, all of them clamoring for what they claimed was the 'easiest to clean', but Kitty settled all that by pairing them up and sending them on their way.

"Donna with Fez," she ordered.

They looked at each other and shrugged.

"Sam, you're with Randy."

"But, _why_?" Sam protested. "I wanna be with Hyde."

Kitty shot them a stern look. "No, I know what you'll end up doing if you two were together. Randy knows his way around a house so you stick with him and do what he tells you."

"But—"

Kitty ignored her and turned to Red. "Honey, you're with Steven, and Jackie'll be with me."

They started to trudge off when Kitty frowned, seeing the flaw in her plan. "No, no. That won't do."

"Red!" she called him back. "You're with me, and Steven's with Jackie."

"Uh, Mrs. Forman," Jackie started, looking uncertainly at Hyde, who had his arms folded, shades on, and Zen firmly in place. "Why can't I work with Mr. Forman?"

"That's because Red won't lift a finger unless I'm there to make sure he does, isn't that right, Red?" She looked at him pointedly.

He rolled his eyes and plodded out of the room.

"Oh you two'll be fine," Kitty said to her offhandedly, pulling out an apron and tying the strings. "And no, you can't be with Fez either cos Donna's the strong one, and well, we both know that if we put Steven and Fez together, you'll never get anything done."

She finished with her apron and clapped her hands together, looking at Jackie purposefully, "Do you want to get this house in order or not, hmm?"

Without waiting for an answer, she whirled around and headed off to the kitchen.

Hyde pushed off the Baby Grand Piano he was leaning on to toss Jackie a rag. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"C'mon," he muttered, then shuffled out of the room towards the wing that her bedroom was at.

* * *

Her room was exactly as she had left it, and stepping into it was like walking back in time. There was a layer of dust covering everything and she sneezed several times in quick succession.

"You okay?"

She nodded and sneezed once more, heading to the windows to draw the lilac curtains and open the windows. The windows to her room offered a full view to the pool below and she sighed as she saw the thick layer of dead leaves at the bottom of the empty pool.

She turned round just as Hyde dropped her bags in the walk-in closet at the side of the room.

"You've got a lot less crap than I thought you'd have," he muttered.

"Yeah well, I realized that I really didn't need so much stuff," she replied and started yanking the covers off her bed. A cloud of dust flew into her face and she coughed. "God, I'll never get this done by tonight."

She threw the covers to the floor and started loosening the sheets. They were tucked tight under the heavy mattress and she struggled with it. "Steven," she grunted, "a little help?"

She heard the flick of a lighter and turned around to see him slouched over an armchair sucking on a joint. She blew out an irritated breath. "Oh for the love of God, Steven. Come on, you've got to be kidding me."

He eyed her through the spiral of smoke.

"Fine. _Fine._ Forget it." She threw up her hands and started tugging again.

 _Stupid_ stupid _First World-style bedding._ She pulled one edge free and fell on her butt. She glared at the offending sheet and wished she were changing the sheets in their hut in Africa instead. _Simple, uncomplicated, fuss-free._

She thought of Africa and she thought of Eric and the feeling she had been fighting for weeks assailed her. God she felt so empty. So empty and bleak and lost. _Oh Eric, where are you?_ She felt tears gather and before she knew it, they were coursing silently down her cheeks. At that moment she simply didn't know why she had chosen to come back to Point Place.

"Oh for fu—. Jeez, Jackie, are you cryin' over a stupid sheet? Oh for Crissakes, fine. Here, I'll do it."

Hyde stomped over to her, lifted the heavy mattress and pulled off the whole sheet, along with the quilted mattress pad, the pink mattress protector and whole lot of useless crap that had gone into ensuring her a good night's sleep.

He shoved his hands through his hair, the joint dangling from his lips. He stared at her, at a loss as to what to do. Her shoulders were heaving and she had her arms around her knees.

He knelt down in front of her. "Jackie. Jackie, hey."

She ignored him. He sighed and pulled her into his arms. It was so easy to bury her head in his shoulder like she had done a million times before and she clutched on to the front of his shirt like he was a lifeline.

"Hey," he said softly, It's okay."

He never could stand to see her cry. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, taking the opportunity to hold her again. Just for a little while, he told himself, just till she stops crying.

The tip of the joint smoldered between his lips. The distinct scent of it invaded her senses, breaking through her misery and suddenly she was downright furious. She jerked away from him sharply and wrenched the offensive thing from his lips.

"You!" she snapped at him and hurled the joint out of the window.

Hyde gave a yelp of protest. She whirled around, her eyes blazing fire. "Stop doing this to yourself!"

Hyde bristled, pissed. "What the hell! That stuff was top dollar, man!" He strode over to her to lean out the window. "You just threw away five bucks!" he yelled.

She threw up her hands and swiped angrily at her tear-stained cheeks. "Grow up, Steven."

She snatched one of her overstuffed, fluffy pillows and tugged the case off. "Stop drinking. Stop smoking. Go to work."

She thought of Masego and all the African children who would give an arm and a leg just for a fraction of the opportunities that they had. " _Do_ something with your life."

She felt his presence behind her. She turned around just as he grabbed her arm and pulled her in close.

"That's just it with you, innit? I'm never good enough for you. You're always wantin' something more," he snarled.

"No, Steven, I don't," she said, and her voice came out thin. "I never have. I just want you to be the best that you can be."

He curled back his lips in a sneer. "Sure you do."

"I always did!"

Hyde's nostrils flared. "You never even waited for my answer!" he yelled. "You gave me a goddamn ultimatum with a bullshit deadline that you never intended to keep! And you ran off with Kelso. _Kelso_ goddammit!"

"I'm sorry!" she screamed at him. "But I couldn't do it! I couldn't wait for an answer that I knew wasn't coming!"

"How in holy hell do you even know that?!"

"How did I know that?" she asked him incredulously. "Steven. You already broke up with me once because you couldn't give me answer!"

"'Cos we were kids! I didn't even know what I was gonna do the next day!"

She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. "I just wanted to know that you could see me in your life. I wasn't asking for forever. I was just asking for a _possibility._ " She tried to pull out of his grasp but he held on tight.

"It would've been enough for me," she added wearily.

" _Then why the fuck did you leave?!_ "

She stared at him.

Little pieces started coming together in her mind to form a thought so far-fetched, so impossible that her heart nearly stopped. It couldn't be.

"No," she whispered. "No… You couldn't have."

He stared right back at her, chest heaving with emotion. He let go of her arms and stepped back, patting savagely around his jeans for a cigarette.

Jackie watched him. "Steven."

 _Flick_ went his lighter.

She walked up to him and tried to reach for him but he pulled back.

He brought the cigarette to his lips and took a deep drag.

"I was gonna propose," he said flatly, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. "Or as close to proposing as I could anyways. I was gonna get you a ring. _Your_ ring. Bona-fide diamond one that you wanted."

Another drag, then he continued, "But I couldn't. So I stole Forman's pansy-ass idea and got you a promise ring instead. It wasn't much, just plain silver, but whatever."

Jackie's eyes filled. "Oh Steven," she whispered, thrown by what he said. _He had had a ring in his pocket that night._ She took a step closer to him, and raised both hands to frame the side of his jaw.

His eyes hardened. "And then I found you with Kelso."

She dropped her hands and looked away. So many misunderstandings. So many regrets.

"I didn't sleep with him."

"Don't matter."

"Why didn't you let me explain?"

"'Cos it didn't matter. You were with Kelso. Goddamn _Kelso_."

"Nothing happened! We could've worked things out, Steven! Things could've been different. We could have been happy!"

He lifted his shoulders. "Yeah, well they didn't," he said, trying to hold on to his Zen. "You were my girlfriend. He was my friend. He knew I was getting you the ring."

He shook his head in disgust. "Some friend," he muttered.

He had forgiven his friend in Vegas as best as he could. For Kelso was an idiot and idiots always did idiotic things. But though things seemed fine between him and Kelso on the surface, Hyde found that he could never forget. The betrayal had cut deep.

"He knew?"

Hyde jerked his head sharply. "Everyone knew."

She couldn't help herself. "Even Eric?" she blurted out.

Hyde glanced at her strangely. "Forman came up with it. A promise to promise. Or some similar lame shit."

Her head swam. _He had gotten her a ring._ God, it would kill him if he knew about her and Eric.

"But… But you went to Vegas," she said slowly. She looked up at him, wounded. And you _married_ Sam."

He nodded. "Yep."

She felt weak and sat back on the now bare mattress, her eyes fixed unseeingly on the opposite wall.

"Is it a game to you, Steven?" she said tonelessly. "Tit-for-tat. I hurt you, you hurt me." She pulled her eyes from the spot on the wall to glance at him. "How's that 'love'?"

" _You_ left me," he repeated. He took a drag. And then another. " _Twice._ "

She flew at him and attacked him in a sudden flurry of fists. "How dare you!" she screamed. "How _dare_ you!" She aimed a particularly vicious kick to his shin that had him doubled over and howling in pain.

"Ow! Dammit, Jackie!"

"No! You did not just say that to me, Steven Hyde."

"Say what? 'Ow'?" he muttered sarcastically.

She glared at him, steam rising from her ears. "I loved you! I gave you everything! We made love and I went to sleep in your arms feeling like the happiest girl in the world and you broke my heart again the very next day."

She shook her head violently. "I can't take it anymore, Steven. I can't."

He straightened and folded his arms across his chest. "I never made you any promises."

She closed her eyes for his words hurt and they hurt deep.

When she opened them again it was to nod her head slowly in acknowledgement. "No, you didn't."

He shrugged.

She glanced away and blinked back tears. "Four times you broke my heart. There's only so much a girl can take. Four's my limit. I had to leave. I couldn't stay and live off the scraps that you throw me from your table. I loved you so much. You were my world. My whole world. I gave you _everything._ "

"So did I!" he yelled at her.

She raised her eyes to his and in them he saw a weary kind of acceptance. "And then you stopped," she said simply.

He held her gaze for a long moment, his mask of zen carefully on.

"And then I stopped," he echoed tonelessly, his hands dangling by his sides.

She suddenly felt so drained. He hadn't changed a bit; while she felt like she had been through the wringer and back.

"I won't stop caring for you," she told him quietly.

He lifted his shoulders again in another of his famous shrugs. "Whatever, Jackie."

She bowed her head, silently accepting his words. "Which is why it hurts me so much when I see you drink like that. Or get so high on dope you can barely walk straight."

She bent over and reached for another of her overstuffed pillows, shaking her head in reluctant resignation. "But you're with Sam now… It's no longer my place."

He wanted to yell at her, tell her that it was always her place. But pride, stubbornness, self-preservation and a myriad of other reasons stood in his way.

When he opened his mouth to speak, all that he said was, "Whatever."

She swallowed hard as he turned his back and stalked out of the room.

Safely outside and away from her, he reached for another cigarette, amazed to find that his hands were shaking.

* * *

Despite Steven's lack of help, she managed to get her bedroom and bathroom habitable again and was relieved that she was able to move back in to her old home that very night. Kitty had promised to drop by the following day with enough frozen dinners and casseroles to last her a week, a kindness that she gratefully accepted.

She avoided the basement for three days after that. Her fight with Steven had thrown her into an emotional whirl and she needed to be alone with her thoughts and to sort everything out. She swung between anger and guilt till she didn't know what she felt anymore.

He had been able to see her in his future. He had been going to say yes to her. It had to mean something, didn't it? She was so confused.

And what about Eric?

 _What about Eric?_ She thought fiercely. She flipped around on her bed and punched her pillow furiously. She hadn't heard from him in ages. Did he think of her as an affair too? She knew that's what she had tried to tell herself it was, but it hurt so badly at the thought that Eric might think of it that way too.

Why hadn't she heard from him? She flopped back on her back and pulled the covers up to her chin, staring at the ceiling. She thought of their last night together. She thought of all their quiet conversations and shared laughter.

She missed him. She missed him so much. She ached for his touch. The feel of his breath on her skin. The look in his eyes when she came into a room. How they darkened to a stormy grey when he was deep inside her.

 _Stoppit, Jackie._

It was over. He was over there and she was over here. They had turned to each other for comfort and that was all there was to it. She thought of Steven and Donna and forced Eric out of her mind.

Two hours later she was still awake. She sighed and looked down at the Led Zeppelin shirt she was wearing. It was worn and buttery soft from frequent wash. She fingered the hem of the shirt and brought the collar up to her nose, trying to see if any traces of Steven still lingered but all she could smell was the generic scent of fabric softener. She could not explain why her eyes suddenly filled with tears or the heaviness in her heart.

She got up and rummaged in her dresser till she found what she was looking for.

Pulling off Steven's shirt, she folded it neatly and placed it at the bottom of the drawer.

Gently, almost reverently, she slipped on the Star Wars one she had pulled out earlier, and wrapped it close around her body.

Within minutes she had fallen asleep.


	49. Chapter 49

Hyde pushed himself off Sam and pulled off the used condom to throw it into the trash. He reached for his half-smoked joint and inhaled deeply. A spiral of blue smoke floated upwards, making a halo around his head. Behind him on the cot, Sam raked her fingernails lazily across his back. He stiffened.

"Cut it out."

She pulled her hand back. He wondered if he hurt her feelings, then decided that he didn't give a crap. Nevertheless he flicked a cursory glance at her. Her blonde hair fanned out across his pillow and her eyes were half-closed. She didn't look offended. Then again, hardly anything he did ever bothered her. That was why he kept her around despite everything he supposed — because she rolled with it.

His thoughts turned as usual to another girl with hair the color of the night sky. He was losing her, he could feel it. A cold fist seized his heart. He finished his joint and he lit up another one, pulling on it until he felt the tension leave him.

Something was different about her. Jackie. He didn't know what. But she wasn't the same woman that he had known from before. He felt an even greater pull, an even greater attraction to the woman she was now. He detested it. It was one of the reasons he had gotten back together with Sam. And therein creating another problem for himself, for now that Sam was back he wasn't sure how to get rid of her again.

* * *

The next few weeks saw Jackie in a whirlwind of activity, for her new job was everything that she had always wanted and more. She had decided to defer her studies which was why she got the job with the network in the first place, for she had applied to work at several news agencies in order to pay for her first semester. She had been hired on to work in the Entertainment and Lifestyle department, which was really just another way of saying 'Hollywood Gossip', but she filled the expectations of the role seamlessly, and the viewers loved her. The only downside was that it was in Milwaukee, and the commute to and from her old house in Point Place to work every morning and evening was killer.

She left the house early in the mornings and came back late at night, usually exhausted to the point that she would fall straight into bed after a hastily prepared dinner or a takeaway sandwich that she would get from the deli near her office before she hopped on the bus home.

It had been weeks since she had dropped by the Forman household or seen any of her friends save for Donna, who would call twice a week at least, to ask her to lunch. Donna's relationship with Randy seemed to be progressing steadily, and they seemed to be adapting to living together just fine. Donna was happy at her job, and was considering furthering her studies, but no concrete plans had been formed yet and Randy was invaluable to Hyde. For Hyde was hardly ever at the record store and Randy kept it from running itself into the ground.

She had not seen Hyde since the day she moved in, and she wondered how he and was doing with Sam. She found herself picking up the phone occasionally, tempted to ring him and see how he was doing, but would eventually put down the receiver, telling herself that no good would come out of it.

She felt like she owed him something, ever since he had revealed to her the truth about that fateful night in Chicago. But she didn't know what and she didn't know what she was expected to do about it. Sometimes she wished that things between her and Hyde had ended neatly — like it did with her and Kelso. But it hadn't and it was a loose thread, a situation that didn't seem to be working itself out; instead it just seemed to be getting more complicated as the days rolled by.

She sighed. She hated complicated.

One morning Jackie stepped out her front door to notice that there was a sharper nip in the air and the colors of summer were starting to take on the reddish hues of fall.

Most people would think that she was a summer person — bright and cheery and full of life: a veritable optimist. But there was something about fall that she loved. The shedding of old leaves; the prelude to winter. She thought it was the most romantic of seasons but this year it seemed to blow in with none of its usual magic and was to her a symbol of nothing but the inexorable passage of time.

She turned to lock the heavy double doors of the Burkhart Mansion and caught the bus to work.

* * *

"Sam's pregnant."

Jackie choked and water went spurting in every direction. "Say what?" she gasped as she coughed wildly, sucking in huge gulps of air.

Donna started thumping her hard on the back. She paused and faltered a bit before setting her jaw and repeating herself, "Sam. She's pregnant. Hyde's gonna be a dad."

They were on a water break at the self-defense classes that Donna took. She had noticed Jackie had been looking rather down a lot lately and had convinced her to come along with her for a lesson. She also figured that it would be a good place to break the news to Jackie, seeing that it was the best place for Jackie to punch something if she needed to.

 _Cough cough cough._

 _Thump thump thump._

"So she's pregnant," Jackie wheezed, and sat back down on her haunches. "Wow." She shook her head in disbelief, and tried to sort her feelings out. "Wow. Just wow." She was quiet for a long while.

"How far along is she?" she finally asked.

Donna sighed. "Early stages. About six weeks or so, according to Hyde."

"That was quick," Jackie said with a tight smile. She pushed her hair out of her face and closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall. "How's he taking it?"

Donna let out a mirthless laugh and joined her on the floor. "Not well." She looked at Jackie who still had her eyes closed.

"He was _seriously_ pissed, Jackie, you should've seen him."

Jackie made no reply.

"He asked her if she was sure he was the father. Can you believe him?!"

Jackie definitely could.

Anyway, the gist of it was that Hyde had shouted and yelled and stormed and thundered for two days. Then progressed to get well and truly sloshed and remained that way for the rest of the week until Red had had enough and stomped down to the basement and told him to 'shove it' and 'man up'. To which he had responded with a loud burp and proceeded to throw up over Red's shoes. It had apparently taken all of Fez and Donna's strength, and all of Kitty's maneuvering, to keep Hyde's ass from sailing to the moon.

"You okay?" Donna asked her tentatively, with a hand on her arm.

Jackie finally opened her eyes. They were calm and devoid of the hysterics and heartbreak that Donna had expected to see in them.

She nodded her head slowly. "Yeah, yeah I am." She ventured a brave smile at Donna. She got up, dusted the seat of her gym shorts, and adjusted her hair. Then headed straight for the sparring mat in the middle of the room.

"Now let's go kick some butt."

* * *

Jackie had seen neither Steven nor Sam since Donna broke the news of Sam's pregnancy to her, and she still met Donna at least once a week. Though she hadn't had the time to drop by to see the Formans, she made it a point to call several times a week, and if she didn't, Kitty would be sure to call her to check on her.

They had grown close, and Kitty had shown a genuine interest in her life and her job and how she spent her days. Jackie was grateful for it, for Kitty was the closest thing to a maternal figure that she had. She had heard nothing but silence from Eric, and during every conversation that she had with Kitty, she would ask casually for news about Eric; but Kitty's answers would always be vague and she got the impression that Kitty didn't know as much as she would have liked about her only son either.

One afternoon, she came back from work early, and found herself alighting several stops before the Burkhart Mansion, on Marie Drive instead. She gave the front door a miss, walking around instead to the drive way and letting herself in through the slider to the kitchen.

Kitty was humming happily and baking something. The scent of cinnamon and spice clung to the air. She turned around when Jackie walked in, and a big smile stretched across her face.

"Hi, Mrs. Forman," Jackie said with a smile of her own.

"Hello, sweetie! It's so lovely to see you! You haven't been around as often as you used to," she gently admonished. "Come sit down, have some crumble."

She directed Jackie to the kitchen table with her oven mitts still on, and swept around to pull the pan out of the oven. She scooped up a piping hot ladle-full of apples and crumbly crust onto a plate.

"Fresh cream or vanilla sauce?" she asked as she settled it in front of Jackie.

"Vanilla sauce, please," Jackie said gratefully, as her tummy let out a rumble.

Kitty looked at the clock and stared at her disapprovingly. "Oh, honey. Did you have any lunch?"

Jackie shook her head at her with a mouthful of crumble. Kitty 'tsked' as she brought over the pot of vanilla sauce sitting on the stove to spoon some over Jackie's plate.

"Busy day at work, Mrs. Forman. I hadn't realized I was hungry until now."

"Well. You can't have crumble for lunch. I'll whip you up a sandwich."

Jackie started to protest, but realized that she really was hungry, and it's been too long since someone fussed over her like Mrs. Forman was doing, so she kept quiet and beamed at Kitty instead.

"How was your day, Jackie?" she asked as she pulled out lettuce and a tomato from the fridge.

"Oh it was great. Crazy as usual, but I love it."

She talked animatedly about her day, telling Kitty about her colleagues, her responsibilities and how much she was coming into her role at the network. She paused for a while and sank into deep thought, debating whether or not to share this with Kitty.

"Though…," she began hesitantly, afraid that Kitty would laugh at her. "There's actually a vacancy coming up soon. Global Desk. The anchor covering the Real Life segment will be stepping down, and there's been a mad rush of people clamoring to step into it."

She looked at Kitty and scrambled to add, "I mean, I know that they're looking for qualified journalists and I'm new and young and I know people think that I'm just a pretty face, but I just really think that I would be a great fit for the role."

Jackie really did think that. It came as a revelation to her when she realized that she was no longer all that interested in celebrity gossip and fashion and that she wanted to report on bigger issues, issues that touched on the life of the common people and the problems that they faced everyday.

She couldn't get the idea out of her head ever since she had gotten wind of the news over at Global Desk. She had been filled with the idea that she could do more, that she _was_ more. And hot on the heels of that thought came a yearning that she could perhaps contribute more too, and that role was perfect.

"What do you think?" she asked Kitty nervously.

Kitty smiled down at her, feeling a surge of pride. She had always known that Jackie was made up of more than fluff. "Oh honey, I think that's wonderful."

A lovely smile spread across her features and her brown eyes lit up. "You do?"

"Yes, dear, I really do."

Jackie beamed. "Thank you," she said softly.

Time flew, and at six o'clock, Jackie declined Kitty's invitation to stay for dinner and gathered her things, getting ready to leave for home.

"Oh honey, before you leave…" Kitty wiped her hands on her apron and hurried out of the room before returning a couple of minutes later with a blue envelope in her hands. She fingered the envelope for a few seconds, before handing it over to Jackie.

"This, here, just came in the mail. It's for you."

Jackie stared at the blue envelope and felt her heart stop. She couldn't move for a long moment. Finally, she reached out to take the envelope from Kitty's outstretched hand. Her fingers were trembling. Her eyes flew to meet Kitty's, and she saw a gentle smile on her lined face.

Her throat felt tight, and she managed a wobbly smile and a short nod before she tucked the envelope carefully into her purse and pulled the slider shut.

Kitty watched her leave. "Oh sweetie, if you only knew how much he misses you."

* * *

The phone rang at the Forman household that night, as it always did, exactly at eight on the dot.

Kitty was in the kitchen and picked it up on the first ring. There was a loud crackle of static on the other end, but it faded as a deep voice spoke.

"Hey, Mom."

Kitty smiled. "Hi, sweetie."

They spoke shortly before he centered the conversation around the real reason he called so often.

"How was she today?"

"You're in for a treat today," she with a light laugh, "she came over this afternoon."

Eric's grip on the phone tightened slightly. "She did? How did she look? Tired? Happy?"

And as she had done ever since Jackie had returned from Africa, Kitty told him what he wanted to know.

"Eric, your letter to her arrived this afternoon," she said later when he was about to hang up.

He was quiet over the line, and waited for her to continue.

"Honey," Kitty ventured hesitantly, "I think her feelings for Steven have changed. I don't believe that someone who's supposed to be deeply in love with someone else reacts that way when she receives a letter from someone who is just a _friend._ "

She waited for some form of a response from her son but all she got was continued silence.

She sighed. She longed for the days when she could read him like a book. Her heart was heavy as she acknowledged that those days might be long gone. As only a mother could, she knew that something drastic had happened to him, and she resented Africa and the teaching program that had sent her son there in the first place.

"Come home, Eric," she said pleadingly into the phone.

She heard him exhale through his nose, and in that sound, she discerned a wealth of frustration and conflict. Her heart ached for her boy, and she tucked her chin into her chest, and decided to drop the subject. "Forget I said that, honey."

"It's okay, Mom," Eric said, "I'll come home to visit, just not yet, okay?"

Kitty's heart broke a little at his words. _Just to visit?_ she wanted to say, but bit the words back before she could utter them. She mustered a bright and chirpy tone instead in reply, " Okay, honey. Whenever you're ready."

* * *

Jackie stared at the blue envelope on her desk. She had been staring at it for the past fifteen minutes. She didn't know what it contained, and was afraid that it would contain bad news. _Bad news?_ she scoffed internally. Like what? A break-up letter? You weren't even together, Jackie!

She reached out and snatched the letter, tearing it open before she could stop herself.

A single photograph fell out. It was a picture of a lush valley, with wide banks and framed on both sides with grassy hillocks. She reached for it with trembling fingers. The edges were worn, as if Eric had handled it often. A wide river snaked through, right through, the middle of the picture.

She stared it, feeling a rush of emotion flood her. She knew where it was taken, she knew what it was about, and she understood.

She turned the picture around.

 _Thinking of you._

His familiar scrawl brought back so many memories. And those three words went straight to her heart. Her eyes filled, and a great warmth filled her.

 _Thinking of you._

Three little words. But she hugged them tightly and never wanted to let them go.


	50. Chapter 50

"What the hell, Sam! You've been drinkin'! Again!"

"He was a regular! And it was a tiny sip! It'll be fine," Sam retorted as she brushed Hyde off rudely and stalked towards their room in the back.

"Fuck no. It's not okay."

He grabbed her arm roughly and swung her around to face him. "Look! I never asked for this! I didn't wanna be a father, and I sure as fuck don't wanna be one to a baby with an alcohol addiction!"

Back and forth it went, vicious snipes and angry words that had the four of them — Jackie, Fez, Randy and Donna, wearing varying expressions of ill humor and either rubbing their temples or holding their hands over their ears.

Jackie was only over as often as she was because she knew that it helped the Formans that other people other than Steven and Sam were around in the house.

"Don't swear at me!" Sam shrieked suddenly.

"What the fu—," Hyde broke off incredulously and shoved his hands through his hair. "It didn't bother you before!"

Sam burst into noisy tears. "It does now!"

Jackie decided that she had had enough. This couldn't be any good for Sam or the baby. She got up from the couch and stepped over Donna and Randy's outstretched legs.

"Guys, enough."

She pulled a sobbing Sam away from Steven and pushed her towards Donna on the couch.

Hyde thrust his arm out towards Sam in extreme irritation. "What's her _problem?"_ he asked Jackie through clenched teeth.

She eyed him oddly. "She's pregnant, Steven."

It was the first time she had said it. Or truly acknowledged that Sam was carrying Steven's baby. Unconsciously her eyes turned towards Sam standing by the back of the couch and fell down to look at her still-flat stomach. Something gripped her around her heart. _The death of a long-held dream._ Once, she had wanted nothing more than to have Steven Hyde's babies.

"Yes! I'm pregnant! With _your_ baby!"

Donna turned to look at Sam then swiveled round to roll her eyes at Jackie, who sighed.

 _Help, please,_ she mouthed to Donna. But her friend just smirked and shrugged, then turned her attention back to the TV. Jackie glared at the back of her blonde head.

She rubbed her temples and sighed again. "Steven, she's hormonal. You've got to be more patient."

He glared at her. "What the fuc—"

"Don't say it!" Sam shrieked again.

A lighter came out from nowhere and a cigarette materialized from between his fingers. _Flick flick flick,_ it desperately went, _flick flick aha!_ Hyde inhaled deeply.

"You probably shouldn't be smoking around her either," Jackie said quietly to him.

His eyes bulged out of his head.

Right on cue, Sam parroted, "No you shouldn't!"

Jackie turned to Sam. "You aren't helping either. Come on, this can't be easy for him."

She held up her hands when she saw Sam open her mouth to interrupt. "Look, I know it's not easy for you, but neither is it easy for him. It's difficult for the _both_ of you." She shot her a glance, "But you should probably lay off the liquor — sips or not."

Hyde wanted to break things. Break 'em, throw 'em, then hop into his El Camino and drive away and never come back. Instead he blew out a long breath of smoke.

"Fuck it," he snarled, turning on his heel and stalking out of the house.

He could hear Sam's sharp shriek of protest behind him, but he ignored it and clumped up the stairs in his beloved boots. He climbed into his El Camino and gunned the engine, wanting to be as far away from this piece of shit mess as he could.

Back in the basement, Jackie looked between a wailing Sam and the basement door.

"You go after him," Donna said, finally turning the TV off. "We'll deal with her."

They heard the sounds of the El Camino start and Randy tossed Jackie his keys.

"Here, take my car," he said.

Jackie nodded and grabbed her coat off the hook by the door, leaving the basement without another word.

* * *

It seemed as if she had been tailing him forever, but when she glanced at her watch she realized that it had only been ten minutes. She was surprised when he took a sudden turn into an area that she could have sworn that only she visited ever since they broke up.

She waited for him to park and exit the Camino before she pulled in next to him. He turned around and looked shocked when she got out of the car.

"I didn't know you came here anymore," she said, walking up to him. She hadn't been expecting an answer so she was surprised when he replied.

"Yeah well. I do." He shrugged. "Sometimes."

She gave him a small nod. Dead leaves crunched on the ground as she walked over them. There was a tree not far off from where they were both parked. Her fingers caressed the bark and found the carving that she had spent many hours staring at and crying over during the months before she left for Africa. She heard him come up behind her.

"It's still there," he stated.

It was a little heart with their initials scratched on the inside.

 _J.B & S.H_

 _4 Eva_

She had laughingly insisted that he add in the 'forever', not knowing that he actually would, and she remembered the feeling that she had gotten when she saw him do so. It was when they had been at their happiest, and had spent many hours making out and making love at the back of his Camino at that very spot. It was where they had shared their first kiss, even though it would be years later before they actually got together.

"Yeah, I know." Her fingers brushed over the carving one last time before she turned to look at him.

"J.B and S.H. forever," she said with a sad but beautiful smile, "and here we are now."

He fixed his shaded gaze on her. He felt trapped, trapped in the farce of a relationship he had with Sam. It was far more than anything with Jackie had ever represented. And to make matters worse, he didn't even love the would-be mother of his child.

 _Save me_ , he wanted to tell the woman he did indeed love, _take me in your arms and let us go to sleep and wake up right here to find that all this has been a bad dream._

"Jackie," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion and he took a step towards her.

Before she knew it she found his lips on hers. She sank into his embrace, her response more from the comfort of familiarity than from actual desire.

For Hyde, having Jackie in his arms again incited a whole different reaction. His senses swarmed with the feel of her, the scent of her, the softness of her skin. Jackie. His Jackie. His lips moved over hers, tongue probing past her lips to stroke hers. She tasted exactly as he remembered and he felt like he had come home. How had he ever let her go? He felt like the biggest fool on the planet for ever letting her go. He deepened the kiss, trying to get more of her, trying regain their past together that had vanished the moment he let her walk out the door.

A part of Jackie was happy being in Hyde's arms again, and another, larger part of her recognized that this was a different Steven than the one that she had fallen in love with years ago. His mustache tickled her, and she let out an uncontrollable giggle.

He broke the kiss and frowned down at her in mock indignation. "Killin' the mood here, princess."

She smiled slightly and leaned forward to rest her head in the crook of his neck. She found that she couldn't quite, and was a little surprised that her forehead bumped against his lips instead. He was shorter than Eric, she realized, and it was the oddest sensation — like they were two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that were supposed to fit but somehow didn't.

"Steven," she said gently, and pulled away from him. "We can't. You're with Sam now, she's having your baby."

He stiffened as her words sank in and reality crashed back around him.

"You owe it to this child of yours to actually try and make something work with his mom. I know you… And I don't think that you want any child of yours to have the childhood that you had."

Looking down, she scuffed the tip of her boot lightly against the ground. "Moms and Dads belong together, Steven," she said softly. "We're both living examples of what happens if they don't."

She glanced up at him and touched his arm. "I don't want you to add one more regret to the list that you already have regarding your life."

He took a moment to absorb what she said. "What if things between Sam and I don't work out?" he finally said.

She didn't know how to answer.

"I don't know, Steven," she said honestly. "So much has happened between us. Things change, people change… Who knows? You might actually fall in love with Sam." She chanced a small smile at him.

"But…" and Hyde hated himself for asking it. For sounding like that. "There's a chance? A… possibility?"

Jackie looked down at her hands in her lap and she was silent for a long time. _Who knows?_ And who indeed did know? Who knew that she and Eric would have found each other like they did in Africa? Who knew if this thing that she was feeling for Eric would ever die? Who knew if Eric would ever decide that he wanted to come back to Point Place again? Who's to say that she and Steven Hyde will never get back together?

She looked up at him with a sideways glance. "Who knows?" she echoed her thoughts.

She let out a breath and spoke without looking at him. "I guess there's always a possibility, Steven."

He nodded stiffly. It wasn't much, but he would take what he could. For life without her was no life at all — he saw that now, and made a split decision to try his damnedest to win her back again.

She leaned against the trunk of the tree and looked around her. It was beautiful here. She remembered the last time she had been here — she had been depressed, in so much pain and crying over her broken heart. Then she had gone to Africa, and found that she had grown another heart. One that didn't beat solely for Steven Hyde.

This new one held a deep love for the richness of another land, the sincerity of its people, and wasn't confined by the boundaries of the expectations that the people she knew had of her. This new one was discovering that there was so much more to her, so much that she was capable of, and with every beat of it she felt alive.

* * *

"I've been looking all over for you," Donna said a she pushed open the door to Grooves. "I must say, this was the last place I expected you to be.

Hyde gave her a sour look. He picked up the box of records he was cataloging and brought them with him to the back room.

"What's up?" he asked her as she followed him in.

She looked bemused. "I can't believe you're actually working," she muttered. "I mean when Randy told me you gave him the day off, I was like, woah."

Hyde grunted in response.

She hopped on the table in the middle of the room and made herself comfortable. "So," she started, swinging her legs back and forth, "this thing with Sam."

Hyde pulled out an old Frank Sinatra album and tossed it in another box. He didn't appear to be very interested in the conversation.

Donna tried a different approach. "Uh. We were pretty worried when you tore out of the basement like that on Tuesday."

"Uh-huh."

"I mean, I get that this whole pregnancy thing must be really freaking you out and all."

Hyde stopped and turned around to look at her. "You think?" he asked her sarcastically.

She lifted a shoulder and ignored his tone. "Yeah. Sure I mean, you aren't even ready for a committed relationship and now you're gonna be a _dad_."

He turned around again and went back to his records, giving her his back.

"But you know. I get it. I just wanna say that we're friends and all. So if you wanna talk or anything. I'm here."

Hyde stopped and took a deep breath. "Look Donna. I 'preciate the thought and all, but leave off."

She sighed. "Hyde, you—"

"Look. Maybe you don't get it, but talk's just that — talk. And all the talkin' in the world's not gonna do a damn bit of good."

"Fine. But I'm just saying. If there's anything that I can do."

He shook his head impatiently. "No. I doubt it."

She blew out a weary breath. "Hyde. We just wanna help," she said gently.

He let out a cynical laugh. "Quit it, Donna. I mean it."

He hated being the object of anyone's pity or discussion. It was why out of the lot of them, Eric was his best friend; because unlike everyone else, he knew when to stop.

"I'm no stranger to shit. I'll deal."

"Fine," she said, and then repeated herself, " _Fine_."

She slid off the desk and pulled open the door. Sighing, she turned back to look at him.

"It's just. Hyde, we're all really worried about you. You're always drunk or high, and today's the first day you've actually been at the store for months. Months!" she exclaimed softly. "It's not just me, Mrs. Forman's really concerned about you, too."

He stood still at her words and closed his eyes behind his shades. He cared about what Kitty and Red thought about him and he would never forget that it was Eric who had been there for him when Edna left. Eric that had steered the way into him living in his parents' basement, and the day that Red and Kitty welcomed him into their house they had actually given him a chance for a life that he never thought that he would have.

He got that Eric had to leave for Africa and all, but times like that, he really wish that his friend were back so that he could rein his big blonde girl in.

He sighed. "Donna. Did you even stop to think why I'm back at the store in the first place?"

Donna paused and frowned. And then her brow cleared as understanding dawned. "Hyde! You're—"

"Yeah yeah. Whatever. Now go away so I can get back to work."

She left the room with a smile on her face. Hyde heard her pick her way through the store and the front door close in her wake. Yes, he was cleaning up his act, and going to the store for the first time in months was a start.

He knew that Jackie was right, and that even though he didn't love the mother of his unborn child, there was no way that he would ever deny the child of his love or try to give his child the best that he could.


	51. Chapter 51

"You know what sucks, man?" Hyde asked with a thick cloud of smoke around his curly head.

"What," said Fez, and started coughing wildly. He looked up with a glazed look in his eye and a dopey grin on his face. "I love circles."

Hyde flicked a small object across the table. It missed Fez but Randy caught it before it rolled off the table.

Randy's vision was a little hazy and he peered at the tiny metal object for a while. "Huh. A ring...," he mused as he recognized the object. "You know what? Donna's got two of these hanging around her neck. She takes it off before I come home, but I know that she wears them." He looked forlorn and then burst out in giggles.

"Hey lemme see that." Fez snatched it out of Randy's hand and held it close to his eyes. "Silver," he said. "And oooh. It's got a purple stone. Semi-precious. Amethyst?"

Hyde stared at him with his mouth open. "How d'ya even know this shit, man." He grabbed it back and gave Fez a disgusted look.

"Hey don't judge a man who likes his jewelry you dirty burnout." Fez brightened. "Does that mean you're gonna marry Sam? Again?" He snickered.

"No dillhole. This one's the ring I got Jackie."

Understanding dawned and Fez nodded sagely. "Ahhhh. I see I see. I remember now. The promise ring. And the stone's purple 'cos it's her favorite color," he concluded wisely. Remembering who fed the idea to Hyde in the first place, he added, "Eric's a romantic sonavabitch."

Hyde frowned. "I can't believe you remember this shit, man." He looked morose for a while. "Man, I miss Forman, man. If he were here I bet this shit with Sam wouldn't seem half bad. And I'd probably still be with Jackie." He looked up sharply as he realized what he had said.

None of the guys seemed to have noticed.

"I miss sex," said Randy sadly, then coughed and back tracked. "Uh, like, daily. I miss having sex daily."

Fez pushed his lip out. "I miss Kelso."

No one paid him any attention.

* * *

Eric pulled himself up the rocky ledge and turned around to haul Morathi bodily up with him. He helped a visibly exhausted Morathi sit down and turned to look out at the breathtaking view down in front of them. A line of pointed peaks stretched out along the left and right sides of where they were, and snow capped the tallest one in the distance before them. The sun was blinding at that altitude, and the air was thin.

Morathi's breathing was labored and Eric tried to hide his concern.

The trek up had been a difficult one. It had taken six days and Eric started off carrying two rucksacks, his and Morathi's, but when Morathi started to struggle with the journey, he had loaded what was necessary into one pack, and despite Morathi's initial protests, he had also for a good part of the journey, carried Morathi himself.

But despite his apparent weakness, Morathi had guided Eric unerringly to this exact spot; it was as if he had committed the trail up the mountain to memory.

A memory that was twenty years old.

"It's beautiful here," Eric said quietly.

Morathi didn't reply, and when Eric turned his head to look at him, he saw that the old man's eyes were fixed in the distance and glazed with a sheen of tears.

"Thank you," he said to Eric with a shaky breath.

Eric nodded and set his lips in a tight line. He sat with the old man for a long while, admiring the view, and the sense of accomplishment of being able to grant Morathi a long-held wish.

"She always wanted ta fly - mah wife. So she could see da world beyond Africa." Morathi said suddenly. "So when she died ah climbed up here and scattered her ash-es in da wind." He swallowed and turned to Eric, and Eric noticed that Morathi looked even older and more worn-out, his face more lined and drawn.

"Ah hope that ah have given her her wish."

"You have," Eric murmured. A chill wind blew, and Eric angled his body to block it from Morathi.

"Not a day goes by dat ah don't blame mah-self... But dah past is past. Nothing ah can do fer eet, fer her, anymore..."

He placed his hands on his knees, and hoped Eric would finally accept and see what he was trying to pass on to him. "What's in yer head, eet cannot hurt you anymore," he said gently. "Don't look to dah past. Fer there is nothing there. What ees here ees now."

Eric stared out at the range of mountains before them, and even Morathi could not read anything of his thoughts.

"Air-reek," he said and there was a mild sense of urgency in his voice. He reached a shaky hand out to touch Eric's sleeve, and repeated, "Don't let yer past interfere with yer present. Or you w-eel never run away from it." His voice turned grave, "No matter how fast you run."

An eagle soared high in the sky, its sharp call echoing off the peaks below.

"You are one man. You cannot change dah fates of those whom dah die has already been cast."

It was a hard truth to accept. But it was a truth and Eric had to learn to accept it.

They both sat in silence, lost in pasts and regrets of their own.

Eric leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "Morathi…," he began. "Do you ever wish that everything could have turned out differently?"

The old man gave a guffaw, and it turned into a short spasm of coughs. He took a moment before he replied. "Some-times, yes."

He sighed and took his eyes off the clouds mingling with the crests of the mountains across the valley.

Staring at his wrinkled and gnarled hands, he continued, "But if things had turned out differently and ah had mah Ema beside me, and mah child with her... Ah wouldn't have had dis family dat ah love with all mah heart now... Even if dey were with someone else and not with da woman mah heart chose."

He glanced up quickly at Eric, and hastened to add, "Do not misunderstand. Mah time with Ema ended when she chose ta take her life. And our child… Our child was doomed from birth.

"Perhaps ah wasn't meant to have had her and our child," Morathi said, unknowingly echoing the words that Jackie had said to Eric months before after the fire. "But ah have chosen to be thankful dat dey were both even in mah life, then to have nev-ah had da chance ta know them at all."

Morathi's words stirred Eric, and he bowed his head with respect at the stoicism of this man and his fellow Africans. They were connected, him and Morathi, by a history so similar that it bore a kinship between them both.

He grieved for the tragedy that had marred Morathi's life: the execution of his hours-old Mingi son, his wife's subsequent suicide, that had him leaving his native Ethiopia, his tribe, everything that he had known and was familiar to him, to make a new life for himself there in Kenya instead.

Morathi closed his eyes to turn his face up to the sun. "When mah time comes—"

"No, Morathi," Eric interrupted quietly.

But a small smile pulled at the corners of Morathi's lips. "Death comes to us all, " he reminded Eric. "When mah time comes," he repeated, "take me up here and give mah ash-es to da wind. Ah've lived too long is dis world without mah Ema by mah side."

Eric pulled in a deep breath and pulled on the forbearance that he was fast adopting from the African people.

He nodded.


	52. Chapter 52

The Fomans' annual Veteran's Day barbecue was in full swing when Jackie arrived, almost two hours late because of work.

"But it's a _holiday_ , Jackie!" Kitty cried as she opened the door to reveal a sheepish and rather harried looking Jackie on her doorstep.

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry! Traffic was terrible and the buses were all on a holiday schedule," she explained as she took off her coat and scarf. "I lost track of time at the studio but got on the earliest one I could."

She handed a bottle of wine to Kitty and leaned in for a hug. "Great turnout Mrs. Forman," she said, looking around.

"Yes it is, isn't it?" Kitty said proudly. "Now come on in, and grab what you can. We're having it buffet-style this year," she trilled and led Jackie into the crowded living room. "And there're more people out back!"

She stopped to grab a cocktail sitting at the bar and thrust it at Jackie, making her way through to the kitchen and driveway, where Jackie could see Red behind a huge grill.

Jackie's stomach growled and she made her way over to the buffet already set out in front of the garage as Kitty was waylaid by a tall brunette who wanted more wine.

A flash of hot pink appeared in her peripheral vision when she was piling her plate high with potatoes, and she turned to greet Sam with a practiced smile. The smiles were getting easier to summon, and though she no longer detested Sam with the crippling intensity that she knew before, she was still a long way from liking her as a friend.

Being in the same room as Steven and Sam was still hard for her. Jackie wasn't completely sure how to act around him, for even if she would be the first to tell everyone that she was a selfish, egocentric person with no morals, the truth was that she wasn't.

She had grown up in a household where her father had affairs with his secretaries and her mother traipsed around half-naked with men half her age. But Jackie was in actuality, deeply traditional. She valued the sanctity of marriage and respected the wholeness of a family. She would never do anything to sabotage what little chance Steven, Samantha and their coming baby had to be a family together.

She cared a great deal for Steven, she always would, and she tried to make it easier for him to deal with the doom he seemed to view his impending fatherhood with by simply being there for him.

 _But_ she was afraid that he would take this new truce or peace or whatever it was that their relationship had yet again evolved into, as a promise or prelude to something more.

"Potatoes?" she asked Sam and made to ladle some onto her plate.

Sam beamed at her. She looked radiant and Jackie made it a point to tell her so. Sam loved compliments and since Hyde seemed to tolerate her at best, Jackie tried — though at the start through gritted teeth — to make her day every once in a while.

Hyde absolutely hated that they were getting along, that Jackie was trying to be friends with his non-wife, and sometimes she wasn't sure why she was doing it either. But it felt like the right thing to do and so she did.

Hyde and Sam still fought, sometimes viciously and Hyde could be incredibly cruel when he chose to do so. He hadn't forgiven Sam for lying to him about Larry and even though he had asked her to come back it wasn't done out of actual desire for her to be with him but more because he had wanted to get back at Jackie. Which was an extremely stupid move since he now found himself in a twenty-foot deep hole in which he had dug himself into and had no idea how to claw his way out of. He wanted Jackie back with a vengeance, but he couldn't because of Sam, and the fact that it was because of him that Sam was even in the picture in the first place was a bitter, bitter pill to swallow.

Jackie took her plate and found her way up to the grassy backyard where a couple of tables had been set out. There were fewer people around, and the only place where she could eat in some semblance of peace without having to make small talk. She wasn't in the mood to be sociable, and had only turned up to the party because it meant a great deal to Kitty, and Jackie cared about what mattered to Kitty.

She was half-way through her plate when a shadow fell across the table. She looked up to see Donna towering over her.

"Hey," Donna greeted her.

"Hey. Join me?"

"Yeah, thanks."

She pulled a chair over and settled herself next to Jackie, watching the people milling around in the driveway.

"Quite the turnout this year, huh," Donna said.

Jackie's lips quirked upwards. "Isn't it like that every year?" She speared some chicken. "Where's your other half?

"Uh, he's out there somewhere. Probably with Hyde or Fez."

Jackie frowned at the lackluster tone of Donna's voice. "Is something up with you two?" she asked hesitantly.

Donna heaved a sigh. She pursed her lips into a tight line before answering. "Well, really it's more like what's _not_ up."

She faced Jackie who was swirling her chicken in gravy. "Something's missing. I mean, I'm feeling like there should be more to it than just this."

"Um. I'm not sure I'm getting you there."

"Yeah. You know how it was when I was with Eric and I was like, really excited to move in together, or to get married or whatever. Even though after that I realized that all of it was a stupid idea, but I was excited, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"Yeah well, I'm not feeling that with Randy."

"Okay… So what do you feel with Randy?"

"I dunno. Just. Like, I'm _settling_ , or something." Donna pushed a hand through her hair. "And it's so stupid, because, he's a really great guy, and c'mon, look at him! He's gorgeous."

She leant back and sighed, unconsciously fiddling with the necklace around her neck.

Jackie suddenly lost her appetite.

"Does Randy know you're wearing that?" she asked Donna quietly.

"Maybe. I think so," came the answer just as quietly.

"Do you love him?"

"Randy? Yeah. I mean, I think I do. No wait. I definitely do. But it's just different, you know."

Jackie waited for her to continue.

"It's like, I dunno." She swiveled her head to look at Jackie again. "Have you ever felt for anyone else what you felt for Hyde?"

 _No, Donna. Please don't ask me that._

Jackie looked away. "I don't know," she said.

Donna blew out a breath. "Yeah exactly. We're living together and everything, and I suppose I'm really happy. But, argh! I just can't figure out what's wrong with me."

Jackie pushed her plate away and Donna frowned at her.

"You're really quiet. Which is weird. 'Cos you'd usually have loads of 'advice'" —she stuck two fingers in the air— "to give."

Jackie smiled and shook her head gently. "Well I'm coming up empty," she said, shrugging.

Donna sighed again. "Enough about me," she muttered and looked out at the crowd again. She turned back to Jackie suddenly. "Hey. I realized that you never really told me about Africa."

Jackie gave a start, then took in a calming breath and leaned back into her chair. She placed her arms on the arm rests and looked around at nothing in particular. "What do you want to know?"

"Um, everything? Like, I dunno, what's it like? Was it nice? Did you like it there?"

A soft smile crossed her face and Jackie's eyes took on a faraway look.

"I loved it there. It was beautiful. It's so different from here, you know. The land, the people. So vast and harsh and _raw_ , I suppose."

She pulled herself back and looked into Donna's blue-grey eyes. "At first it was kind of a shock, 'cos everything's so different from here. But I fell in love and the thing is, I don't think I've fallen back out since."

She gave a muted laugh. "Who would've thought, huh? I mean, they've barely got electricity and plumbing has never been heard of, where I was. And I'm _me,_ for crying out loud. But gosh, everything was so _real_ there."

Donna looked at her in surprise. "Oh my God, Jackie. You really did like it there. I'd thought it was because you didn't want to come back 'cos of Hyde and all that. But it wasn't just that, was it?"

Jackie gave her a wan smile. "I'm back here, aren't I?"

Donna nodded slowly. "And look at where Hyde is," she mumbled. She reached over and touched Jackie's arm. "I'm really sorry, you know. About this whole fiasco you have with Hyde."

Jackie covered her hand, touched at the sincerity in her voice. "It's okay," she said. "But, Donna… Thank you."

Donna nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. It disappeared as a small frown appeared and she thought about how to phrase her next question. "Jackie…," she started hesitantly, "how was Eric over there?"

Jackie's eyes flew to Donna's. Her voice was low when she answered her friend, "I'm actually quite surprised it took you so long to ask me that." She looked down at her lap, "I had thought it would be the first thing you'd ask me when I came back."

Donna sighed dejectedly. "Yeah, I know. But I was… afraid. I wasn't sure how I would have felt if you had told me that he was miserable or much worse, happy."

She crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair, just like Jackie had done.

"Happy to leave Point Place. Happy to leave… me."

"But you're with Randy now."

Donna lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I guess. Maybe that's why I finally thought that it would be okay to know how he was." She glanced askance at Jackie. "So… was he miserable?"

Jackie couldn't help the smile that tugged at the sides of her lips at the hope in Donna's tone, but inwardly she was troubled. Such a simple question but it was filled with so many grey areas that it sent her head spinning.

 _Was he miserable?_ Yes and no. Misery was no longer definitive. Eric had changed; no longer straight and uncomplicated, he was filled with so many murky areas and complexities that it was a miracle that he was able to bear it at all.

Yes, he was miserable; but not for reasons that Donna, as worldly as she liked to think herself as, was capable of thinking of.

And no, he wasn't; he was the happiest that she had ever seen him when he was in the land that he loved.

She mulled over her answer, unsure how to answer Donna, and she didn't think that Donna would ever understand the man that Eric had become.

"He's different," she said at last. "And I think only he can tell you if he's miserable or not."

Donna looked at her disbelievingly. "That's it? After four months there I thought you'd have leapt at the chance to gossip or diss him or whatever."

Jackie shrugged noncommittally, reluctant to discuss what she thought of as Eric's private matters. She reached for her wine cooler and took a sip.

Donna blinked, and seemed nonplussed at Jackie's unwillingness to share, slash, gossip. After a moment, she looked Jackie over thoughtfully.

"You've changed," she said at last.

Jackie let out a peal of laughter. "Because of this?"

"Well, and how you've been handling the situation with Hyde."

Jackie shook her head, still amused. "Nah, I haven't really. But we all have to grow up sometime."


	53. Chapter 53

The days blended into one another and the weather got chillier.

Jackie fumbled in her purse for her keys and sighed as they slipped through her fingers and fell to the ground. She stooped down to reach for them with cold fingers and suddenly felt weary to the bone.

She scooped them up and settled herself heavily down on the steps of her front porch instead. Her eyes glazed over as she looked out at the once-manicured front gardens of the mansion.

There used to be a privet hedge lining the edge of the property and up the driveway to the house, but those were now gone along with her mother's prized topiaries. All that was left was a carpet of grass, that, through the summer she had reluctantly tackled with a lawnmower to keep it relatively tidy, but now that the temperature had dropped the grass grew more slowly and she was only too glad to surrender the lawn mower for a few months.

The leaves though, were another matter and they were scattered all over in piles that she had learnt to turn a blind eye to. The upkeep of the mansion was tedious, requiring a lot of effort and she always felt like she had to drag herself home after work each day.

Jackie sat outside in the cold until she felt numb enough to get up and face the emptiness of the cavernous house behind her.

* * *

 _Ringggg! Ringggggggg!_

Jackie stepped out of the shower and padded barefoot to the telephone on her nightstand. Toweling her hair with one hand she picked it up and murmured an absent 'hello' into the receiver.

"Jackie? It's me," came a voice that she couldn't quite place. She frowned.

"Who?"

There was an impatient sigh and then, "Sam!"

Oh. What was she doing calling Jackie at home? "Um, hi Sam," Jackie said cautiously, "what's up?"

"I think Hyde's gonna propose!"

So Steven had finally decided to make a real go at it. Jackie arranged the pillows on her bed and leaned into them.

"Uh-huh, that's great, Sam."

"It is, isn't it?!" Sam trilled. "I was gonna call Donna but I remembered that she and Randy were out of town for their romantic getaway, and I was so excited I called you."

"Well, I'm happy for you. How do you know he's gonna propose anyway?"

"I found a ring!" Sam said gleefully. "And it's beautiful! A purple diamond! I didn't even know they had those!"

Jackie frowned. She had never heard of a purple diamond. Pink, maybe. But purple?

She forced herself to sound enthusiastic instead of disbelieving and congratulated Sam on her 'purple' diamond ring again.

Sam went on about how Hyde could have chosen a better hiding place and then her voice suddenly fell to a loud whisper.

"I think he's home!" she hissed down the line.

"Okay," said Jackie.

"I'm gonna hang up now!" Sam added in the same loud whisper.

"Okay," said Jackie.

"Bye!"

"Okay," said Jackie.

* * *

Thanksgiving arrived, and as usual, Kitty threw a large party in its honor and cooked way too much food and invited way too many people.

Donna and Randy were absent this year, and according to Sam's endless chatter in her ear all evening, Jackie learnt that it was part of their attempt to add the spice back into their relationship.

Steven had thrown her veiled looks all evening, which for the most part, Jackie had ignored, and pointedly glanced in Sam's direction to reinforce her feelings about the situation. Hyde had gotten somewhat pissed, drank a couple more beers than he had limited himself too, gotten a little more buzzed than he had set himself out to be, and slung a snarky comment or two Jackie's way.

Truthfully, Jackie was little more used to barbs and bites like that than she was about Hyde's latest obsession to get on her good side, and who could blame her, for it had been his attitude towards her for nearly the past two years. So instead of riling her up as was his intention, it had backfired miserably as Jackie took it all in stride.

He gave up after a while, and retired earlier than usual, and Sam soon followed, and left Jackie heaving a breath of relief at their departure.

It was late out, and the last of the guests had left a while ago, leaving Kitty and Red to do the clean up. Jackie had stayed back to help, but found herself wandering out for some fresh air after the worst of it was done.

She stood out in the driveway alone.

It was a clear night, with nary a cloud and the moon shone brightly amongst the stars.

Stars.

She could never look at them the same way again. Not since Africa. Not since Eric.

Feeling melancholy, she thought about Donna and Randy. He was a good guy and he loved Donna, that was easy to see, and she really hoped that Donna would be happy with him.

She thought about the differences between Donna and herself and even though she had always claimed that she was superior to Donna in every way, she knew that deep down she was envious of her. Donna garnered love and affection easily from pretty much everyone that knew her, unlike Jackie.

Red and Kitty loved Donna like their own whereas it had taken time, a lot of time, for them to shower that same affection on to Jackie. Their friends were loyal as a fault to Donna, while they seem to sway with the wind when it came to her. Donna got good guys like Randy and Eric to love her, men who wouldn't cheat on her, or claim to love her and just as easily break her heart the next day. Steven cheated on her at the first sign of trouble and Michael, Michael did so every chance he got.

She sighed, dismissing her gloomy thoughts. She was lonely, she decided. And craving a presence that wasn't there, and wasn't even hers to crave.

She leaned against the white post framing the edge of the patio and looked at the night sky above, marveling at how different everything was just two years ago. Two years ago in 1978, her life was Steven. He consumed her and everything that she did was all about him and for him. Eric didn't even begin to factor in her thoughts.

Now all she could think about as she looked at the twinkling stars above was if he was looking at the same ones and thinking about her too.

"They seem less brilliant from this side of the world, don't they?"

For a moment she thought she was hearing things. That she was imagining things. Because it simply couldn't be. But her heart leapt as she recognized the sound of that voice.

His voice.

Strong and tangible it seemed to wrap around her in the dark. It had been so long since she heard it that she gave a cry and whirled around and her eyes found the green of his. And at that moment, everything else ceased to matter.

"Eric..." Her words were so soft it barely seemed like he could hear her at all.

But he did.

"Jackie," he said simply.

She smiled a slow smile in wonderment. It crept up her face and into her eyes and the sight of him filled her up on the inside.

And that smile warmed him to the very core.

"You're here," she said, "You came back."

He looked tired, and slightly scruffy from the day-old stubble that covered his jaw. But standing there in his black coat and scuffed up shoes and a duffel bag hanging from his shoulder, he was the best thing that she had seen in the longest time.

Seven months since she had seen him. Seven long, agonizing months that had felt like years and years to her.

They stood staring at each other in silence. She looked beautiful to him. God, those eyes. They were filled with an emotion he couldn't name and he hoped that she was as happy to see him as he was to see her. Her cheeks were pink from the biting cold, and her hair a shimmering mass of black in the moonlight.

The wind whipped a lock of it across her cheek and he moved towards her, reaching out to finger the silky strands before tucking it behind her ear. His fingers caressed the side of her cheek and she leaned into them; and her lips parted as she breathed in the familiar scent of him.

"So damned soft," he whispered.

Before he could say anything else however, a shriek sounded from inside the kitchen, and the spell was broken.

"Eric! Eric, oh my baby boy!"

Jackie jumped back from him as the sliding door was violently wrenched open and Kitty came barreling out. She flew into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Oh you're home, you're home! Red! RED! Oh my baby boy is finally home!" She released him and latched on to his face with both hands, turning left it and right.

"Mom—,"

"What's all this damn screaming—," Red came stomping out and stopped as he stared at his son. A couple of beats passed and then, "Well. If it isn't the dumbass."

"Red! Please! Enough of that now. Just look at him! Oh he's grown so big now and oh!" She stepped back and her hands swept across the width of Eric's now much broader shoulders. Her face crumpled. "I can't believe I missed it all!" she wailed and promptly burst into sobs.

"Mom, Mom, come on," Eric looked pleadingly towards his father. "Dad, I —."

Red rolled his eyes and walked over to place his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Kitty, there now. Why don't you go get the boy something to eat, eh? Look at him. I'm sure he misses your pancakes. Don't you, Eric? Pancakes?"

Kitty's sobs ceased abruptly. "Pancakes, Eric?" she asked tearily.

"Yeah. Yeah Mom, okay."

"With sprinkles on top?"

"Er," he looked at Red and cleared his throat. "Yeah, sure Mom. Sprinkles. "

"In a smiley face?"

"What? No Mom, I'm twent—" he broke off as he caught Red's pointed glare. "I mean. Yeah sure, Mom. Smiley face and all. Thanks, Mom," he smiled weakly.

"Oh perfect!" She released him and flew back into the kitchen. Sounds of pots and pans banging around followed soon after.

Jackie looked from Eric to Red and nodded to the kitchen. "I'll just go see if Mrs. Forman needs any help." She turned around and disappeared through the sliding door leaving the both of them alone.

They looked at each other.

"Hey Dad."

"So," Red shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He studied his only son, his eyes missing nothing. He took in the lines on Eric's face, the strength in his stance and the shadows in his eyes.

A weight settled around his heart. "Two years huh."

Eric ran a hand through his hair. "Uh, yeah. Two years."

"What happened to you, son?"

Eric looked briefly down at the ground before meeting his father's eyes. "Nothing," he lifted his shoulders in a shrug, "and everything."

Red didn't say anything and just stood and watched him, but somehow Eric knew that he understood. They were both silent, but for the first time in his life, Eric felt a connection with his father.

Red moved forward and sighed, "I'm sorry, Eric."

He put his hand on Eric's shoulder and held his eye. "But if it means anything, I'm proud of you, son."

* * *

It took thirty minutes more of Kitty fussing and for Eric to shovel down his pancakes before he could retire upstairs. His feet took him down the familiar path from the kitchen to upstairs and he opened the door to his old room, and found Jackie sitting on his bed.

He dropped his bags and stood at the doorway, drinking in the sight of her. She had grown her hair out, and it fell in heavy waves almost to her waist. It was still the same rich, dark color as he remembered, and he wanted to run his hands through the silken mass. There were so many things he wanted to say, to tell her.

 _I miss you. I love you. Please understand. Come back to me._

Nothing had changed for him. He still loved her with the same crippling intensity that he had from the first time he had fallen for her. But as he stood staring into the brown pools of her wonderful eyes he found he couldn't say those words at all.

"I thought you'd left," he said instead.

She stood up when she saw him, seeming uncertain as to what to do. He started forward to reach for her, aching to hold her again, but stopped when he saw a series of emotions flicker across her face as she warred with something inside.

Eric dropped his arms and fisted his hands at his sides. _Nothing had changed._ The familiar dull pain flared in his gut and he looked away from her.

A movement caught his eye and he turned back in time to see Jackie finally reach a decision, and she crossed the room in three strides to throw her arms around his neck.

He buried his nose in her hair and held on to her tightly as she pressed her body into his. He ran his hands down her back and he relished the feel of her against him as the warmth that had been missing since she left him in Africa started to seep back into his bones.

"I missed you," she said, her voice muffled in the fabric of his coat. "More than I thought possible." She drew back slightly to look up into his beloved eyes. "How do you figure that?"

He gave her a lopsided smile in response and ran a finger down her cheek. She caught his hand and rubbed her cheek against it.

"I got your photograph," she said, pressing a kiss to the callused skin.

His eyes followed her every move.

She raised her gaze to his and searched their depths.

"Did you bury your ghosts?" she asked him softly.

Something flickered in his eyes. "I've accepted them."

She closed her eyes. Her hand came up and she uncurled her fingers to place them gently over his heart. She leaned her forehead on his chest, then nodded. "I missed you," she said again fiercely.

His heart filled with tenderness for her. He had promised that he would always be her friend and yet he hadn't written or called for seven long months except for one lousy photograph and she never once complained, or screamed at him, or demand an explanation why.

"Jackie, I'm sorry."

"Oh Eric, don't be. I understand."

She really did. It was a gesture so typical of Eric, that if one didn't know him or care for him as deeply as she did, they would have missed it entirely.

It had never been about himself with Eric. It was always about someone else. He gave up Madison with Donna for his parents. He gave up the familiarity of home and country for a chance at a better future with Donna. And then he gave up Donna herself to set her free.

He hadn't called, or written Jackie, not because he hadn't cared about her or forgotten her. He did so because he was carrying a harrowing burden, and telling her would be giving her his load to bear.

"I would have gone with you, you know," she told him quietly.

"I know," he said. He shook his head slightly, "But it was something I needed to do alone." How could he explain to her that there was no way he would take her with him to the scene of his nightmares? She was singularly the most precious thing in the world to him.

She felt his chest heave as he held her tight. She wound her arms around his waist in return and buried her nose at that point at the base of his neck where the scent of him was especially strong.

Wood and spice and earth.

She felt like she had come home.

Something shifted in the air around them and when she raised her eyes to his she found a similar fire simmering in them. She surged upwards as he bent down to capture her lips in a sizzling open-mouthed kiss. His hands tangled in her hair to cup the back of her head and she explored the depths of his mouth with her tongue. It had been months of longing and yearning, but they were finally in each other's arms again.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside and a door closed soon after, startling them and Jackie ended the kiss, pulling back abruptly. Her hand flew up to touch her swollen lips as Eric took a moment to get his breathing under control.

The heat of the moment evaporated and with it came the startling dose of reality.

This wasn't Africa.

It wasn't just them in their own little world. Jackie felt as if someone just emptied a bucket of ice water over her head.

"I... I don't know if this is a good idea," she said nervously and his heart sank. He remained silent.

"It's just that... We're no longer in Africa, you know, and uh... There're people we might... hurt... if we continued this here."

"Jackie, it was never just a fling for me in Africa. You know that."

She put more distance between them and folded her arms across her middle.

"I've been back here for seven months. And so much has happened in that time. Donna and I... We're _friends_ again. I care about her. And Steven… God, things with Steven are so complicated. I think he actually wants to—"

She broke off and braved meeting his eyes again, and found that they were fixed unrelentingly on her.

Her words came out in a rush. "I know that you haven't seen either of them for two years. But they both still care about you a great deal. Are you saying that you would risk your friendship with Steven for... for...," she waved her arm about, " _this_?" She paused and added meaningfully, "Your friendship with Donna?

"Because this" —she gestured frantically between the two of them again—"whatever it is that we think we have, is gonna kill them. It's never going to work here. We've been betraying two of our best friends by doing this. We _are_ betraying the both of them." She sucked in a shaky breath and shook her head hard. "Oh my God, this will kill them."

Heat flashed across his eyes for an instant, and he reigned it back in. When he spoke, his voice was low and measured.

"What is it that you think we have? What is 'this'" -he copied her movements- "to you?"

She threw her hands up in the air. "I don't know! I just know that this is worse than when I was sneaking around with Steven. This time, there are _two_ people we have to think about."

She looked at him a touch disbelievingly. "How can you be so calm about this?"

His jaw tightened and he shook his head slowly. His eyes were stormy when they held hers.

"Jackie. Why do you think I came back?"

She faltered. "I... I don't know," she said again.

He released a harsh laugh. "Then I'm a bigger fool than I thought I was."

He walked over to the window facing the street and leaned an arm against the top of the frame, staring blankly out of it for a long while. He heard Jackie come up to him hesitantly.

He spoke before she could say anything.

"I love you, Jackie."

He heard her inhale sharply behind him. When he turned around he found that her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"In case you didn't know."

He sighed wearily and pulled a hand down his face. He looked deep into her eyes and said softly, "That's why I came back. For you. Because I love you." His voice was low with feeling and she was moved beyond words.

And torn. Oh so torn.

The tears she was holding back spilled over and trailed down her cheeks. For she couldn't say it back.

He closed his eyes and looked away, then turned back as he reached out to brush away her tears with the back of his hand.

"Come on, it's late. Let me give you a ride home."

She shook her head hard, sending her hair flying.

"No, I... You're tired too. I..." She swallowed and reached for his arm. "I wanna stay here with you."

His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth.

"No," she interrupted, "not for _that_. I just don't want to leave tonight. Especially not after... What you just said. Please?" She looked at him pleadingly and against his better judgment, he found himself relenting.

He blew out a loud breath. "My parents aren't gonna like this."

She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. "Thank you," she said softly.

Glancing around, he appeared to finally take in the changes to his room, and if Jackie hadn't been watching him so closely, she would've missed the forlorn look that flashed briefly across his features, giving her a glimpse of the boy that he had been before.

She trailed her hand down his arm to take his hand, pulling him towards the shelf above his bed. "Hey, look. I saved your dolls."

It distracted him as she knew it would.

He scowled. "Ac-tion fi-gures," he drew the words out exasperatedly.

"Meh, whatever," she said dismissively then smiled as a loud yawn escaped him. "Come on, it's late. Let's get you in bed."

"If you hadn't just assured me otherwise, I would say that sounded like a proposition," he muttered, shrugging off his coat.

Her lips quirked upwards as she grabbed his discarded coat and left the room. She walked slowly down the stairs, and heard him close the bathroom door across the hall.

She hung up Eric's coat by the door and jumped as she turned back towards the stairs and noticed Red's silent figure in the den. He was sitting in the armchair nursing a drink. A spiral of smoke from a cigar between his fingers floated upwards and disappeared into the air above.

He pinned her with a flinty gaze. "Isn't it a bit late to be loitering in my son's room?"

"Mr. Forman! No! I was just, uh, helping Eric get settled in."

He raised an eyebrow and brought the cigar to his lips. "At two in the morning. In his own home?"

Jackie opened her mouth to protest but clamped it shut when he gave her another unyielding look. He looked away and she stood stock-still, unsure of what to do.

He motioned to the cigar in his hand. "Cuban. Expensive as hell. I smoked one when I married Kitty. Another when the kids were born." He paused to take a deep drag and continued, "the day I found out that the daughter that can do no wrong in my eyes was taking up with a married man," he blew out a puff of smoke, "and today."

Jackie remained silently by the entryway as he regarded her.

"Today. When I realized that the son as I've known him to be is gone."

Jackie's shoulders fell and she took a step towards him. "Oh, Mr. Forman."

He put his cigar down and picked up his drink. "No parent should have to see that."

She ventured closer and sat herself on the footstool in front of him. He looked as if he had aged a good ten years, and she felt his sorrow keenly. She had never known how to offer comfort, and this time was no different. She knew that people found the sound of her voice abrasive, so she just kept quiet and lent her company to him.

They sat that way until Red finished his cigar. He gave a deep sigh and when he looked at her his eyes were frank and appraising.

"You're a good girl, Jackie," he said and drained the last of his glass. He put it down on the table next to him and looked at her again. "You were good for Steven… And you'll be even better for Eric."

Jackie started, shocked at his insight.

"Stay the night, girl," he said and gave her a warning glance, "but no hanky-panky under my roof, you hear?"

Jackie could only nod at him dumbly.

"Now get to bed before I change my mind."

She brushed her teeth with Eric's toothbrush and entered his room quietly, finding him fast asleep. Stripping off and pulling on an old shirt of his, she crept into bed with him.

He opened his eyes briefly and she feathered a thumb across his brow and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He pulled the sheets back for her and she snuggled in next to him, pulling his arm snugly around her.

It was like nothing had changed and they had never been apart, and within seconds they were both sound asleep.


	54. Chapter 54

Eric opened his eyes the next morning to the once familiar, faint sounds of his mother bustling about in the kitchen downstairs. He looked down to see slender arms wound around his middle and smiled, lacing his fingers with hers. Jackie tended to sleep that way, curled around him like she alone could shield him from the evils of the world.

He twisted around and folded her in his arms, and when he felt her shift he lowered his head and nuzzled his face into her neck. "Wake up, sunshine. Time to face the fireworks."

She yawned and shivered slightly, a smile playing at her lips. She missed this — waking up with him. "That tickles. You need a shave."

He nuzzled her some more, prompting a giggle, and sat up, dragging the bedcovers along with him.

"Hey!"

"Come on. Up. I'm not gonna face Red alone when I try to explain your presence." He considered her and said musingly, "Maybe you could try and sneak out through the window."

She swatted him on the arm. "I'm not doing that. It's fine," she said and sat up too. "I cleared it with your dad last night. He told me to stay."

Eric's jaw dropped. "God, it's like you've magical powers. You've actually tamed the beast."

She threw him a smug smile. "I tamed you, didn't I?"

He guffawed. "Yeah. But it's more like I'm one of those snarling puppies that secretly _want_ to be tamed."

She gazed at him fondly and swung her legs off his bed. "I get the bathroom first."

He waved a hand in her general direction and flopped back down on the bed. "Don't you always?"

* * *

"So what's the deal with Hyde?" Eric asked half an hour later as he walked into his room after his morning shower. A blue towel was wrapped loosely around his lean waist and speckles of water glistened on the bronze of his chiseled body.

Jackie glanced up in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You said that things were complicated." He shrugged and grabbed another towel from his closet. "Well I just wanna know how complicated they are."

She busied herself in front of the dresser, working up the courage to tell him. "I think he wants to get back together," she said and forced her eyes up to his.

Eric had thought as much, but nothing in his face or eyes gave away what he felt.

"How do you feel about that?"

He sat on the edge of the bed behind her and watched as she fussed around with her hair.

She turned slowly round to him, abandoning the bun she was trying to twist her hair into. "He's having a baby with Sam," she said and leaned back against the dresser. "I don't really wanna get in the middle of that."

They shared a look and he nodded, understanding her feelings about this. He didn't know her feelings about Hyde and he really didn't want to ask. He had come back to tell her that he loved her; and, because he couldn't live without her beside him for another second of his life.

He had told her the first. The second part of it, he reasoned was something he would simply have to learn to live with if she never ever came to love him back.

He got up and reached around her to pull out a shirt from the dresser as she turned back to the mirror sitting on top of it and attacked her hair. After failing to secure the thickness of it again, she felt Eric's fingers in her hair, gently pulling out the pins already in place. He threaded his fingers through the dark strands, feeling for any that he had missed, then let it fall in heavy waves down her back.

She turned around as he stepped back. "Leave it like this." He reached out to curl a lock of it around his fingers. "I like it much better this way."

"Okay," she whispered, lost in the green of his eyes.

He smiled and tugged lightly at the rich black lock around his fingers. "C'mon. I think I smell bacon."

* * *

They had just left Eric's room and were walking along the corridor to the stairs when Jackie stopped short in front of him. Whirling around she turned panicked eyes towards him.

"Omigod, I forgot! Steven and Sam live here too!"

She grabbed his forearm and Eric waited patiently for her to continue.

"They don't know about us in Africa! No one does!" she hissed in a loud whisper.

He looked her over and kept his expression neutral.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked her quietly.

She looked at him. "What do _you_ want to do?" she countered cautiously.

He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. "Tell them," he said simply.

Her eyes went wide. "No!" she exclaimed. "Are you insane?"

"No, I don't believe I am," he answered mildly.

"Well, we can't," she said emphatically. "Steven's in a pretty bad place and he's just starting to shape up. If he knew…" She shuddered and looked up at him.

"How long do you plan on keeping it a secret?"

' _Forever'_ was her first thought. She had been so happy to see him again last night but now the ramifications of him actually being back was beginning to sink it. She sighed. "I don't know," she said dispiritedly. "How long will you be here?"

Eric had known when he had decided to come back that it wasn't going to be easy and he had thought about the possibility that it might even have been for nothing.

He considered her carefully. "A month. Two. Maybe longer."

She wasn't sure how she felt about that — to have him back and then having to say goodbye to him again a few months later.

"Does your mom know you'll be heading back to Africa?"

"Yeah, it sorta came up last night." He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced.

She squeezed his hand and he flashed her a tired smile.

"Eric," she said tentatively, "is it really necessary for them to know?"

He looked her straight in the eye. "I'm not going to hide what I feel for you, Jackie."

She bit her lip; she had expected nothing less from him, especially not after what he told her last night. "I'm sorry," she told him softly.

He nodded stoically. He had learnt to accept what he could not change. He would be patient; for now.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked again.

"Could we… Could we perhaps, maybe, ease them into it?" she suggested hopefully.

He leaned against the corridor wall and folded his arms. "What do you mean?"

She looked down and mimicked his stance, but twisting her hands instead. "I'm not asking you to pretend that nothing happened between us. It wouldn't be fair to you and I… I don't think I can hide what I feel either… But could we just try to appear as friends first?"

He sighed deeply. "I can't make you any promises, Jackie. It isn't right to hide it from them this long."

She knew he was right, but she looked up at him imploringly. "Okay, okay. Just... We'll tell them soon alright? Just not right _now."_

He figured he could roll with that. He nodded and she breathed out in relief.

"Okay," she said, and then again, "Okay."

She gave him one of her brilliant smiles that made her eyes go all sparkly and his heart turned over. God the things he would do for this woman. He rolled his eyes internally and cursed himself for being a fool a thousand times over.

* * *

 _A/N: Special thanks to Owlzilla for sharing your songs. I've loved them all :)_


	55. Chapter 55

They entered the kitchen in good spirits and Kitty let out a delighted laugh as she saw them both. If she was confused as to what Jackie was doing there so early in the morning she gave no sign.

"Good morning, sweeties!" she sang out, herding them to their seats.

"Morning, Mom."

"Good morning, Mrs. Forman," Jackie said and went to the kitchen cabinet to get the crockery.

Red entered the kitchen a minute later with a paper in his hand. He made his way to his usual seat across from Eric.

"Well! Aren't we early this morning."

"Morning, Dad," Eric said. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was eight o'clock; he was usually up hours before that, and he felt like he had wasted an entire morning.

Jackie walked over with a stack of plates and Eric rose to help her lay them out. "Oh Eric's usually up at the crack of dawn," she told them. "The villagers keep early hours."

Kitty sailed by with a jug of orange juice and a pot of coffee. She counted the plates and said, "Oh honey, we need more plates than that. Steven and Sam are eating too, sweetie."

Jackie froze. She hadn't really expected Steven and Sam to join them for breakfast. Despite her little conversation with Eric along the corridor this morning she had honestly been hoping to waltz out of the Forman household without having to make contact with them at all.

Right on cue, Steven's booted footsteps sounded heavily on the stairs from the basement. Jackie panicked, and started looking around frantically for an exit. She wasn't sure she could sit down and breakfast with the both of them and pretend that everything was the same as before. She wasn't sure if she could act normally with Eric just sitting there next to her. Steven would see right through them both.

Before she could make a move, Eric's warm hand covered hers and he bent down slightly to catch her eye. "Hey," he said softly, "I'm here, it'll be fine."

She dragged her eyes to meet his steady green gaze; and felt a calm emanate from his solid body in waves. It flowed through her veins and she relaxed. What was she thinking? He was here, of course she could. She could do anything with him next to her.

She nodded in reply. "Okay," she said.

He squeezed her hand and continued what he was doing.

Red observed their exchange without a word. He flipped the edge of his newspaper back up as his son's best friend and the wife of that best friend that he barely tolerated traipsed through the kitchen.

"Smells good, Mrs. For—" Hyde broke off as noticed two extra people in the kitchen that morning.

As usual, his attention zoomed in on Jackie and he didn't take notice of the man next to her. His pulse leapt at the sight of her. Didn't she head home last night? He shrugged inwardly. Maybe she got invited for breakfast.

Kitty turned around from the stove where she was frying eggs. She put her spatula down in excitement.

"Steven! We have company! A-hahaha!" She turn off the gas and leaned against the stove, propping her hand on her other hip. "Look who's back!" she said, and waggled her head from side to side.

Hyde frowned at her, bemused at her over-the-top chirpiness this morning. He peered closely at the vaguely familiar back of the guy next to Jackie.

Eric hadn't been looking forward to this reunion at all. He had no idea what his reaction to seeing Hyde after almost two years away was going to be like. Especially since Eric had developed very deep, very real, and very uncompromising feelings for his best friend's ex-girlfriend, whom Eric was almost absolutely certain was also the love of his best friend's life. And what made it worse was that he was also quite certain, that the same girl, who was fast becoming the love of _his_ life, still had unresolved feelings for the man who had broken and stomped on her heart so many times.

He turned around slowly, and when he saw Hyde again, he yo-yoed between wanting to punch the living day lights out of him and pulling him into a man-hug. He did neither, and remained standing, and an unreadable expression stole its way across his face.

Hyde obviously had no clue as to what Eric was thinking, and his reaction was the total opposite of Eric's: he was ecstatic. He had missed him more than he cared to admit, and things just weren't the same without Eric around.

"Forman!" he called out, and a huge grin split his face. "You're back!"

He crossed over to where Eric was and pulled him into a hard hug. Eric found himself thumping back on Hyde's back as a similar grin —though not as bright, and just a shade shy of being as genuine—appeared on his face too. Flashes of Jackie as she had been over the past two years: crying, broken, torn and depressed appeared in his mind's eye. Hyde released him and they both stepped back.

Hyde pushed his sunglasses up his nose. "You look… different."

Eric shrugged impassively.

"It's probably the hair," he said, and regarded Hyde's bushy curls. "You should think about getting a cut too. And probably a shave while you're at it." He fingered his upper lip. "That's not doing a thing for you, man."

Behind him, Jackie hid a smile and handed Red a fork and a knife.

" _I_ think it makes him look sexy," came an unfamiliar voice from behind Hyde.

The stripper.

He felt Jackie stiffen involuntarily so he turned back around before the stripper came into view. Kitty came by with a pan full of bacon then and he let his arm brush Jackie's as he took the pan to transfer the bacon to the large platter in the center of the table. They shared a quick look and she gave him a weak smile.

Hyde sat down next to Red, and Jackie walked to place the empty pan in the sink. She heard him strike up a conversation with Eric about Africa. He sounded bright and alert and she was glad. Eric being back would be good for him.

She nodded a greeting to Sam (Boyfriend Stealer), whom she noted looked great this morning. _Did the woman never hear about morning sickness?_

Sam sashayed over to join the others at the table and Jackie wondered fleetingly if Eric liked blondes too.

Sam was a natural flirt on account of her profession, and men just couldn't help but respond to her. In turn, she enjoyed their attention and dressed to show it. This morning, despite the freezing temperatures outside, she had on a low-cut top and a pair of shorts in neon pink that showed off her endless legs to perfection.

Kitty handed Jackie a plate of sausages and she took them distractedly, feeling her gut clench as Sam took a seat between Hyde and Eric. Sam crossed her tanned legs and stroked Hyde's arm, then leaned forward for a large plate of eggs, nearly spilling out of her top to do so.

Jackie clamped her lips together in a tight line.

Flipping her blonde hair back over her shoulder, Sam turned and angled her body more fully towards Eric. She batted her eyelashes and smiled coquettishly.

And Jackie found herself gripping the edge of the plate so hard her knuckles turned white. Unable to control herself any longer, she marched over to the table and banged the plate of sausages down. They looked up at her, stunned.

What the hell, Jackie?" Hyde exclaimed and picked up a sausage from his lap.

She ignored him and shot Eric a nasty look. She dragged a chair out, letting it screech noisily against the tiled floor, and parked herself ostentatiously between Sam and Eric. Eric looked at her closely, slightly confused by her behavior, and reached out for a some eggs.

"It's Eric, isn't it?" Sam asked, and shifted herself to look around Jackie at him. Her already large breasts, now made larger by pregnancy, rested on the table in full glory.

Jackie dropped her fork with a clang. She slid her right elbow on to the table and shoved her shoulder forward to block them from view. With a murderous look on her face, she drove a forkful of eggs in her mouth with her left hand. She looked ridiculously uncomfortable, but she didn't care. And she didn't want to even think about her _why_ she was acting so.

Eric's brows knitted. He looked at Jackie in bafflement and a fork full of food to his mouth slowly.

"Right?" Sam prompted. She wasn't used to being ignored by red-blooded young men, and Eric was definitely a red-blooded young man in her opinion. "You look so _different_ from your pictures."

Eric's eyes were indifferent as they flicked over the girl who had caused Jackie so much pain. He nodded shortly and looked back at Jackie, who was maintaining the same awkward position, busy stabbing at a rasher of bacon.

He nudged her arm gently. She refused to look at him.

He frowned.

"More juice, Eric?" He heard his mother ask.

"Yeah. Thanks, Mom," he answered distractedly.

"Pass the sausages."

"Sure, Red." Hyde turned to his wife and pointed at the sausages. "Sam, hand him the sausages."

"Here you go, Red," Sam said.

A loud clank sounded as Red dropped his fork to his plate. "No, no. _He_ ," he pointed his finger at Hyde, "calls me Red. _You_. Call me Mr. Forman."

Sam barely seemed to notice the put down. "Sure, Mr. Forman," she said breezily and handed him the sausages. Red put three on his plate and handed the plate back to her. She took it and stretched over Jackie to hold it out to Eric.

"So, E-ric," she drawled breathily, drawing out the syllables of his name, "we haven't officially met. I'm Sam." She stopped to twirl a finger in her hair. "Have a sausage?"

Eric stopped eating and observed her quizzically.

"Do you have a throat infection?" he asked.

"What?"

"A throat infection. You know, laryngitis."

He took the plate of sausages from her and swept one on Kitty's plate and speared another for Jackie. "'Cos that's what I sounded like when I got it, when I first started teaching. All breathy and… raspy."

Kitty snorted into her glass of orange juice and tried to mask it with a laugh. "Ah-hahahaha!"

Sam's mouth dropped open.

Eric gestured with his knife. "You need to learn how to modulate your voice. Pitch lower. Less strain on your chords. And bye bye laryngitis."

Red looked at Eric, and nodded approvingly. "The boy's got a point," he said with a cat-like grin.

Eric paid no more attention to Sam and turned back to his food. There was nothing like a good old-fashioned American breakfast in his mother's kitchen after two years out of US soil.


	56. Chapter 56

Hyde disappeared back into the basement after breakfast and Jackie was helping Kitty wipe down the kitchen table with Sam when she heard the sliding door open as Eric walked out with the trash. She mumbled an excuse and followed him through the door. It was cold out, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she hurried after him.

"You weren't very polite to her," she said when she caught up with him, trying to sound neutral.

"Yeah I didn't feel so inclined."

"So," Jackie tried again. "What did you think?"

Eric halted briefly to look at her. "About what."

She laughed, but it sounded fake even to her own ears. "Samantha," she said lightly.

He lifted his shoulders and continued walking to the end of the driveway. "She's what she is."

Dissatisfied, Jackie picked up her pace and stepped right in front of him to look him full in the face.

"You didn't think she was ho—"

"Nope."

"Not even a littl—"

"Nope."

She looked so disbelieving it was almost comical. He dropped the bag to put his hands on her upper arms and lost himself in her beautiful eyes for a moment.

"Jackie, she's a walking STD. I've more self-respect than that," he finally said. He flashed a charming grin at her as he went on, "Besides, my standards are much higher. I like you. My type is you. I'm screwed for life. Who else comes close to a Jackie Burkhart?"

She bloomed like a flower right before him.

"I don't deserve you," she said when she could find the words.

He gave a self-deprecating laugh at that. "No angel-face. _I'm_ the one who doesn't deserve you." He picked up the trash bag and tossed it towards the bin. The bin wobbled slightly as the bag fell in.

"Come on," he said, "let's get back in. You're freezing."

He dusted his hands and regarded her as a thought crossed his mind.

"Earlier at breakfast," he began, "with Sam. You were upset because of _me_ weren't you?" _Not Hyde._

A slight flush worked its way up Jackie's neck.

He noticed. "You were jealous," he stated, sounding a little amazed at the revelation.

Jackie's eyes flashed fire. "She shoved her boobs up in your face." Her expression darkened. "Skank."

He tried to hide the grin that made its way across his face. He shook his head, still trying to get his head around the notion. The day suddenly looked a whole lot brighter.

Maybe he hadn't come back for nothing after all.

* * *

Samantha Maiden-Last-Name-Unknown Hyde was very intrigued by Red and Kitty Forman's son, Eric. He was by all counts a completely different man from the one that she had been used to hearing about in the time he was away.

She had heard that he was skinny.

 _Nope!_

He was wimpish.

 _Definitely not._

Geeky.

 _Maybe… Maybe?_

Soft.

 _Really?!_

Twitchy.

 _Huh._

A smartass.

 _Most definitely._

She had not heard him described as handsome.

 _Oh yes._

 _Hot,_ she would say. _Darn pregnancy hormones._

Or reserved.

 _Everyone agreed: Eric was a talker._

Or magnetic.

An enigma.

Intriguingly so.

And she was intrigued.

The object of her musings walked back into the room, closely followed by her baby daddy's ex, and she squinted, almost certain that Jackie was wearing the exact same outfit she had worn to the party last night.

Considering that this was Jackie... A slight frown marred her pretty features.

 _Strange. Very strange indeed._

* * *

"Don't you have a store to be at?"

Hyde looked up from the television as Eric came down the stairs from the kitchen later that day. "Uh yeah. But Leo's takin' care of it for me so… Yeah."

Eric swung a leg from over the back of the couch and plonked himself down on the cushions. He spread open a newspaper over the coffee table in front of him.

Hyde looked over in curiosity. "Watcha doin'."

Eric pulled the cap of a marker open with his teeth. "Apartment listings. I'm looking for a place to rent for a bit."

Hyde's eyebrows flew to his hairline. "Woah. Your folks know about this?"

Drawing a circle over an ad that had potential, Eric shrugged.

"Red's been on my ass to get the hell out for years. This shouldn't come as a shock to him." He looked up at Hyde. "And well, I haven't been around for two years. I think my mom should be okay with this."

"Why don't you just stay here. Save on rent and all that."

"Nah, I've been on my own for too long. Got set in my ways, I guess."

Hyde could understand that and they sat in companionable silence, broken only by the sound of the TV or Eric's marker squeaking against paper as he made his way down the columns. A smile started at the corner of Hyde's lips. Eyes glued to the television he said, "I missed this."

Eric looked up and he looked around, nodding slowly in agreement. Putting the pen down, he relaxed into the cushions and propped a foot up over his knee. "Yeah. I guess I do too." He smiled slightly. "What're we watching?"

"Magnum P.I." Hyde glanced over at him. "Aired after you left for Africa. Good stuff."

They watched in silence as Tom Selleck ran around Hawaii in tiny shorts.

"Huh," said Eric, "Is that where you got the idea to grow a hairball above your lip?"

Hyde leaned over and slugged him in the arm. Eric grinned. Some things never change.

"Sam thinks it's sexy. So whatever." He frowned a little as he flexed his fingers and looked back up at Eric in befuddlement. "What the hell did you do in Africa, man?"

Eric gave him a passive look just as the basement door swung open with a forceful bang.

Fez barreled into the room and dove lengthwise across the couch to smother Eric in a huge hug.

"Ow! Fez!"

"Eric, you sonavabitch, you could've called to say you were back in town." He pulled back and released Eric, only to shoot him a foul look. "Why am I the last to know? Fez is always the last to know."

"Fezzie, Donna and Randy still don't know. _They'll_ be the last." Jackie said in a trying tone as she entered the basement after him and shut the door to keep out the cold.

She took off a wine-colored beret and hung up a similarly colored jacket by the door. Turning around, she threw an exasperated look at Eric. "I've been telling him that the entire walk here. _Donna and Randy,_ Fezzie."

"You walked? You could've called. I would have gone to get you."

"That's fine. I've been walking from my house to yours for years. Besides Fez dropped by so we walked here together."

Eric had sent her home in the Vista Cruiser that morning after breakfast and she didn't want to raise suspicion if he had driven by again now.

Eric nodded and noticed Fez and Hyde staring at him with identical expressions of bafflement. He raised his brows slightly then decided to ignore them both.

Jackie walked over to the couch and slapped Fez's legs out of the way, grabbing the clicker and absently settling herself comfortably down beside Eric.

Hyde and Fez's mouths dropped open.

"Hey, it's Tom Selleck," she said to Eric, "I think he's kinda sexy." She stopped, still staring at the TV and tilted her head to the side. "But I could do without the fuzz." She wrinkled her nose.

Eric chuckled softly and leaned back against the couch, extending his arm along the back of it.

"Dear God!" Hyde burst out, unable to keep quiet any longer. "You two _are_ actually friends!" His voice rose in octave with each word that he uttered.

Fez nodded furiously. He had his arms folded and he couldn't quite contain himself. "This is unbelievable!"

"Unnatural, that's what!" said Hyde.

"More unnatural than Hyde and Yackie!" cried Fez.

Jackie jumped at the last statement but collected herself at the feel of Eric's hand on her neck. Her hair was loose and long and none of their friends seem to have noticed his hand under it.

"We've been friends for years, guys," Eric said calmly, eyes still fixed on the TV.

"No no no. Not like that you haven't. You guys actually _like_ each other now — don't deny it! Fez can see it!"

"Yeah, Forman. You just about put up with her before. Hellfire! You said she was made of hellfire!"

Jackie turned to glare at Eric, affronted. "Eric Forman, you did not!"

He turned to look at her sheepishly. "Yeah, I actually did. Once."

She tossed her hair and sniffed, turning back to the TV. His fingers squeezed the back of her neck reassuringly. She ignored him.

His lips twitched.

Hyde started rubbing and tapping at his mouth with his fingers. He looked from Eric's impassive profile to Jackie's delicate one to Fez's changing expression. Finally he decided that it was simply too much effort to ponder about life's open mysteries and settled back in his chair to watch TV.

After all, stranger things have happened.

* * *

"So that was a good trip," Donna told Randy as they pulled their weekend bags out from the trunk of his car.

He dropped his bag to pull her in for a long kiss. "Yeah, I'm glad we decided on it. It's been a while since I've seen you smile like that."

"I know, and I'm sorry." She sighed. "It's just, things have been weird in my head lately."

He laughed at her description, glad that he was feeling some of the 'old' her back again. "Okay, well, just let me know when things start to get weird in your head again, and we'll take another trip, okay?"

She nodded and leaned into his body.

She had stopped wearing those rings around her neck, and Randy had noticed. He couldn't begin to describe the relief he felt, and not for the first time, was incredibly thankful that his girlfriend's ex-fiancé was safely away in the far, _far_ off land of Africa.


	57. Chapter 57

It was chilly out, and Eric was wearing his old grey cable-knit sweater that had once hung on him but now clung to his form like a glove. He had been outside shooting hoops in the fading light of dusk when he registered footsteps coming up from behind him.

He turned around as those footsteps halted suddenly and he was greeted by a sharp intake of breath.

He had rarely ever seen her speechless, but this time she looked stunned as she saw him for the first time since they parted ways almost two years ago. Her hair was as blonde as it was when he last saw it, and she looked exactly the same as in his memories of her.

"Donna," he said simply.

Just like Jackie had a year ago in Africa, Donna couldn't stop staring at him.

Her jaw slackened and her eyes went wide. She couldn't believe that this was him. _Her_ Eric. After all this time and in the flesh. It was as if all her thinking about him had conjured him here. Her entire getaway with Randy vanished in a flash.

Eric looked fit and tanned, and very out of place in this town of perpetual cold weather. Her mouth opened, then closed, and her mind raced to find something to say. She had thought that once she saw him, things between them would be as they always were, and that everything she had been feeling lately would just click into place, but something was off.

She took a step closer, trying to get a read on him, but there was something detached and unapproachable in his bearing that left her unsure of herself.

"I, uh, I…" She stopped and cleared her throat. "Um, when did you get back?" she said instead.

"Four days ago," he said, spinning the basketball between his hands. "You look good," he offered.

She smiled slightly. "Thanks." Her hand came up in an awkward attempt to smooth her hair as she groped around for something intelligent to say. "Uh, so do you, actually." She paused. "Africa agrees with you."

He laughed lightly and turned to aim the ball through the hoop. It went in neatly.

"Yeah. So I've been told." He caught the ball on rebound and held it out to her like he always did.

She took it with both hands and dribbled it at her side, trying to sort through the muddle of her thoughts and the onslaught of her feelings. She glanced at him again and found him watching her quietly, his face an inscrutable mask. She fumbled with the ball mid-dribble and shot him an embarrassed look to see if he noticed.

He did, and there was an almost imperceptible smile on his face. It disconcerted her, for Eric had always worn his feelings on his sleeve, and open smiles and easy laughter were a huge part of who he was. She didn't know this Eric, and this Eric was unsettling.

"I was supposed to nurse you back to health," she said finally.

Eric gave her a quizzical look.

"Y'know," she blinked to cover up her awkwardness and put a hand in the back pocket of her pants. "When you first told me you were leaving for Africa… You said, you'll probably catch some life-threatening disease and I could nurse you back to health."

"I did?"

"Yeah… But look at you," she said, and she couldn't help that her tone was shy and soft and filled with amazement. "You've grown so much... And it's not just physical, it's something _else_ —," she trailed off and lifted her hands before letting them fall to her sides. She glanced at him through her lashes. "I like it," she finished shyly.

Eric didn't say anything. It felt good to see Donna again. Their history together was long and though it had come to an end for him, he would always have a place in his heart for her. But he didn't like it that everyone he had met so far had made an appreciative comment about the 'new and improved' him. Because he sure as hell didn't. He would give an arm and a leg to come back just as idealistic and innocent as he had left. His emotional scars ran deep, and the 'improvements' to his physical self just weren't worth it in his opinion.

She handed him the ball back, but she found that her fingers were clumsy and she released it too soon. He leaned forward and deftly caught it before it could hit the ground. The tips of her ears turned pink and he smiled.

Donna wished a hole would open under her and swallow her right up. She had never felt more like a blushing fourteen year old before in her life. She snuck a look at his broader frame, his somehow stronger jaw, and impossibly greener eyes and felt butterflies in her tummy right down to her toes. And this was Eric! Her Eric, her first-ever boyfriend, the one she lost her virginity to, the boy she grew up with, whom she knew as well as she did herself.

But somehow he wasn't.

"Um," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and gestured lamely to her house. "I should get going, my dad's making dinner and I'm already late for it."

"Yeah, okay."

"Right. Okay, um, I guess I'll see you around?"

He nodded and she gave him an awkward little wave and turned to the house. But halfway there she stopped and turned around to gaze at him, feeling her pulse speed up as she saw him watching her in turn. Her gaze fell unconsciously to his lips and Donna wondered for a wild moment what it would be like to run into his arms and kiss him just like she used to.

She took a hesitant step forward, and then another, but something in Eric's eyes stopped her from going further.

"Night, Donna," he said quietly.

She sucked in a breath to cover up a mix of feelings, and gave a small nod before turning on her heel.

He tucked the ball under his arm and continued to watch her as she walked away.

* * *

Hidden behind the garage door, Jackie stood silently as she took in their long-awaited reunion. She was out of hearing range, but she observed the slight smile that was still on Eric's face and how he followed Donna's departing figure with his eyes.

She replayed the look in Donna's eyes when she saw him. Jackie knew that it was only a matter of time before the two of them ran into each other again, but she had somehow hoped that this moment could be evaded, well, forever.

She supposed she had suspected for awhile that Donna may still be a little bit in love with Eric, but before, she could shove it somewhere deep and deny it.

Seeing Eric and Donna together somehow made an Eric and Jackie seem even more unreal. Because in her eyes, what Eric and Donna shared was made of the forever kind of stuff, and in comparison, her African affair with Eric seemed paltry. _Tawdry_ even.

Maybe before Sam. Before the nurse. Before Raquel the biker chick. Before Steven had killed the egocentric self-assurance that she had been wearing as her armor for most of her life, she believed that no sane man would choose any other girl over her.

Maybe.

But this was Donna. And Donna wasn't just any girl.

She continued to stand in the shadows watching Eric as he sank a few more balls, wondering if she would ever get tired of just looking at him. When it grew too dark and Eric abandoned his game to head back into the warmth of the house, Jackie slowly slid to the ground and placed her head on her knees.

She was ashamed of herself. She hadn't accepted his love so she had no business feeling what she was feeling now. Possessiveness. Jealousy. And fear that he would pick someone else over her.

She couldn't understand herself.

Or this tumult of feelings that she had for Eric that she had never experienced with anyone else before.

Or why she was so threatened by Donna's obvious residual feelings for her first love.

He said he loved _you,_ a voice in her spoke. She shut it out mercilessly. But her heart had soared for a moment.

With it came another little whisper.

Yeah, but _Donna_ was Eric's kryptonite, it reminded her.

* * *

Eric dreamed of fire and of Desta. It wasn't a good dream, but when he woke he wasn't filled with the all-consuming guilt or self-hatred, or even anger that he was used to. He came awake quietly, without event, and it took him a few seconds to recognize the walls of his childhood home.

He lay back and took a moment to even out his breathing, and Morathi's words came to him unbidden.

 _What's in yer head they cannot hurt you anymore._

No, they can't.

He could almost feel the thump of Morathi's cane against his chest.

 _What's in here. This, you have tah fight on yer own_.

I'm working on it, my friend.

 _Nothing you can do for da past, there is nothing there. There is only now... And da future. So change da future._

I will.


	58. Chapter 58

The truth was, there was something dark, and maybe even dangerous, about _this_ Eric that drew girls like bees to honey.

In his usual self-effacing manner, or probably because of the way that he had been treated his whole life, he was ignorant and blind to the effect that he had on the fairer sex. If he did notice anything, he simply attributed it to his buffer physique, and rolled his eyes inwardly at the shallowness of it all.

What he didn't know was that it wasn't just how much stronger he had gotten, or broader, or more masculine, that had gotten Donna and Sam so drawn to him.

It was his self-assurance, this mystery that surrounded him, the lure of the unknown that enthralled them. But what they were so attracted to, so drawn to, was what Eric loathed so much about himself, and what Jackie's heart ached to see replace his old easy-going boyish charm.

It was about a week since Eric had been back and he was in Milwaukee at the studio to meet Jackie for lunch.

He would usually drive her to work in the mornings, since he got restless without the endless amount of work that he got used to having to do in Africa, and plus he didn't like the idea of her taking the bus. He would stay in Milwaukee, to occupy his time, trolling the streets and shops for ideas and items that he could ship back to Africa to better the living of the villages. He was also keeping a eye open for jobs that he could take during the time he was back in Wisconsin.

No one, save for his parents even suspected that he and Jackie were spending so much time together, for Jackie's comings and goings were pretty much separate from the rest of the gang's, and though it wasn't really her intention, Jackie couldn't help feeling a tiny bit grateful that it was so.

"What about Fez?" Jackie asked him at their table in the studio lounge where they had taken to having their daily lunches.

The lounge was a large open space, cozy and warm, with large and small tables alike and built for meetings or discussions or breaks and lunches, which Eric and Jackie were doing now. It was located right in the middle of the floor, and people were always walking by it or through it to get to their offices or destinations located around it.

"What about him?" Eric asked.

"I mean, he's got a room available since I've moved out, and the apartment's actually in a pretty great location."

"Huh."

Funny that Eric had never really considered Fez's apartment before, but now that Jackie had mentioned it, it seemed like it was the most obvious place to move into.

"Huh," he said again, and offered her a lopsided grin. "That's a pretty good idea, I think I'll talk to him about it."

"You're welcome," she sang out, giving him a beam of her own.

He shook his head in amusement as a door to the office nearest them closed loudly and someone exited the room.

An attractive, tall girl with hints of red in her brown hair strode across the lounge, making her way to the elevators at the far end. Her gaze swept past the few occupants in the room, then she stopped as she brought her eyes to rest again on Eric and Jackie.

She inhaled sharply. "Eric?" she called, "Eric Forman?"

Eric looked up with a slight frown, for the odds of him knowing anyone at Jackie's workplace was ridiculously low.

The girl walked purposefully towards them as Eric stood up slowly, for she was certain now that he was indeed who she thought he was.

"Eric!" she cried, and ignoring his outstretched hand, went straight in for a big hug, flinging her arms around his neck and nearly decapitating Jackie with her swinging purse in the process.

"Jen, hey," he greeted the stranger, giving her a half-hearted pat on the back in return. His eyes darted to Jackie's, which had narrowed significantly.

'Jen' pulled back after a moment too long and favored him with a brilliant smile. "It's so great to see you again! It's been what? Almost a year? More?"

"More," Eric confirmed. He cleared his throat and made to introduce Jackie, but 'Jen' had already turned to her with an outstretched arm and friendly smile.

"Hello, I'm Jennifer Lisbon, Eric and I met in Africa. We were in the same program together."

Jackie shook her hand, prepared to detest her but somehow finding something charming about her.

"You can call me Jen," Jennifer added, "everyone does." She gave Jackie another smile.

"Jackie Burkhart," Jackie said in a not particularly friendly way.

"Jackie. Jacqueline?" Jen inquired.

Jackie gave a short nod in reply.

"Oh gosh! What an elegant name!" Jen gushed. "I've always wanted a name like that - Jacqueline, or Elizabeth or something. But I got stuck with plain old Jennifer. _Every_ one I know is a 'Jenny' or 'Jen'." She pulled a face.

Jackie couldn't resist a small smile. "I think 'Jennifer's' a pretty name," she offered.

"Aw thanks," Jess said happily. She looked Jackie up and down and then turned to Eric. "I like her," she said conspiratorially. "Her shoes are to die for."

Jackie was sold. She always believed that a woman's character could solely be judged on her taste in shoes. She glanced down at Jen's shoes and noted that they certainly passed muster.

"Sit! Join us," she told Jen brightly.

Jackie heard Eric scoff at her complete one-eighty in attitude and elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

"What brings you here?" she asked Jen as Jen sat.

"Well work, as it turns out." She started rummaging in her purse for something.

"Last I heard you were planning to join the UN," Eric remarked as he watched her shift contents around in her purse.

"Yep," she said and pulled a card case triumphantly out from her cavernous purse. She opened it and handed one each to Jackie and Eric.

"I'm working for the United Nations, and was just down here to talk to the production crew at Global."

Jackie's ears perked up. She was actively pitching for the anchor position at Global Desk.

"Accomplished anything?" Eric asked her.

"We'll see, it'll probably be a relatively long process, so nothing concrete till everything's settled, I guess."

She considered Eric as a slight frown crossed her features in thought. "Hey, would you happen to be interested in a job or something? Because one of the members of the team right here in Milwaukee had to go on maternity leave, so they're short-staffed for the next few months at least."

Eric looked at Jen in surprise. Just this morning he had been wondering what to do about a place to rent and a job to take and now both seemed to have fallen neatly into his lap.

He fingered the card. "Yeah, I guess I might," he said in reply.

* * *

"So what's the deal with you and Jen?" Jackie asked Eric after work when she finally had the chance to.

Jen had stayed with them all through her lunch break and then she had been called in for an urgent meeting that lasted all day. Jackie had observed the easy banter and familiarity that Eric and Jen had with one another, and even though she had decided she liked Jen, the feeling that Eric and Jen were more than friends, or had been more than friends, wouldn't go away.

It had nagged at her until now when she finally managed to get to ask Eric straight. Or at least, as straight as she could, for she was striving for a casual, nonchalant tone that wasn't fooling Eric any.

"What do you mean?" he asked her in return.

She hedged with her reply. "Well, you know, 'cos you guys seem like such good friends." Jackie placed extra emphasis on 'good'.

Eric wondered how she would take it if he told her. But he decided that it was best if she knew anyway and folded his fingers around hers as they walked to his car.

"We hooked up a couple of times, maybe more." He glanced down at her and clarified, "In Africa. She was the one who taught me Swahili — she's fluent."

Jackie didn't say anything, but she had guessed as much. It still didn't stop jealousy from rearing its ugly head.

"It wasn't anything serious, we both knew that, and it ended when it ended," he told her.

She kept quiet until they reached the car. He released her hand to open the door for her before she spoke.

"This was when you first started your program?"

He nodded. "It was after Donna, and before... Before everything else," he finished softly.

She gave him a quick nod, then impulsively reached for his fingers to press a kiss to them.

"You don't feel anything more for her?"

He smiled and reached his other hand out and touched her cheek tenderly with the backs of his fingers.

"No, I don't."

She gave the hand she was holding another kiss before releasing it. "Then you should take the job," she told him decisively. "And I'm starving, so take me to dinner."

He chuckled. "Yes, m'lady."

* * *

Kitty didn't protest _too_ much when Eric told her and Red over breakfast a couple of days later that he was moving into Fez's. She was definitely disappointed, and maybe even heartsick, but she consoled herself that at least he wasn't moving back to Africa just yet.

"You'll be by for dinner often, yes?" she asked him, or more like, informed him.

"Yeah, Mom."

"Okay," she nodded, and left it at that.

So Eric moved his meagre belongings into Fez's apartment, which he supposed was now his apartment as well, and Fez was beside himself with excitement at having one of the gang living with him again.

"Fez gets lonely here sometimes," he said with an exaggerated pull of his lower lip.

"I bet you do," said Eric, dropping his huge black duffel on the floor in Jackie's old bedroom.

There were still touches of Jackie around the room: lavender curtains, pale lilac walls and a rainbow colored lamp on the sole desk at the corner of the room.

Fez looked around and then askance at Eric. "You can repaint the walls if you want to," he offered. "It's probably not up to your tastes now," he added as his eyes swept up and down Eric's form again.

The corner of Eric's lip pulled up slightly. "Nah, it's alright." He opened the closets and dumped his duffel bag inside, and dusted his hands.

"There, all moved in," he said and turned to Fez. "Wanna go get something to eat?"


	59. Chapter 59

Donna found herself returning home to Marie Drive to visit her dad without Randy in tow more often than usual. She even invited herself over for dinner on Meatball Mondays and found all kinds of excuses to walk past the Forman driveway or take out the trash.

"Y'know Pumpkin, if you wanna see Eric so bad, you could kinda just walk in and talk to him," commented Bob after what seemed like the hundredth time that she had gone to 'casually' pace the row of hedges between the two properties.

She gave him an irritated glare.

"I don't wanna see Eric so bad, I'm just, y'know - I feel like a walk." She gestured forcefully to the ground in front of her and shoved her hands in her pockets, shooting another quick glance around the hedge at the Formans'.

Bob shrugged and continued reading a magazine at the outdoor patio where he had parked himself.

"Suit yourself. I just think it would save you a whole lotta pacin' if you would just walk over and talk to him."

Donna gritted her teeth. "Fine," she muttered.

She squared her shoulders and flipped her hair back, and marched past the hedge into the Forman driveway. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the slider as the familiar cheery atmosphere of Kitty's kitchen greeted her.

There wasn't anyone around, so she made her way to the basement. It was a route she had taken hundreds, if not thousands of times before, but this time for some reason she found that her heart was racing and her hands were clammy.

She got down to the basement and to her great disappointment, found that it was empty.

She flopped down on the couch. She would have found if funny if she wasn't so wound up, and only to find that getting herself that way was for a whole lot of nothing.

* * *

Eric was back at his parents' house for dinner on Friday evening when Sam cornered him as he was coming down the stairs after having used the upstairs bathroom.

He gave her a nod and was about to ask her to let him pass when she leaned forward and placed her hand on his bare arm.

He grimaced and politely tried to pull his arm back, to which she ignored and held on tighter.

"So," she cooed, "we really should start getting to know each other better, since you're Hyde's best friend and all."

"Uh, no we don't," Eric muttered.

"I've heard so much about you," she went on, "I feel like we're practically best friends too!"

Eric tried to pry her fingers off his arm.

She noticed what he was doing and latched on to his other hand. Turning it around she ran a finger over the calluses on his palm. Eric stared at her, half in disbelief.

"Ooooh, I like a man with work-roughened hands."

"You're insane," he stated flatly. The gentleman in him remembered that she was a woman and pregnant at that, so instead of pushing past her or shoving her aside, he picked her up with her arms flat at her sides and deposited her to the side and out of his way.

Sam tittered as she watched his retreating back, and nearly swooned.

The door to the kitchen swung violently forward as Eric tried to put as much distance between himself and Hyde's knocked-up live-in girlfriend(?), and nearly slammed into Donna who was heading through the same door he was coming out of.

"Eric!" she exclaimed in surprise, not really expecting to run into him like that.

"Donna, hi." He looked back into the living room distractedly and then focused on her face. "What's up? You're here for dinner too?"

"Uh, no, not really, but your mom saw me across the driveway and invited me and my dad over." She gestured to the kitchen table which was already groaning under the weight of food.

Eric looked over and nodded, "Yeah, best that you and Bob come eat with us."

The door swung open again and Sam walked in. Her expression brightened as her gaze locked on Eric and he moved around Donna to the basement stairs, thinking to look for Hyde. "Excuse me," he muttered to Donna.

Donna frowned slightly as she looked from Sam to him. Before she could formulate a reply though, a heavy booted tread sounded from the stairs heading their way. Before long, Hyde himself appeared in the kitchen. He looked well-slept, and his breath was alcohol-free.

"Forman," he greeted Eric happily.

"Hey, man."

Hyde looked past him at Sam and he scowled slightly. "Go put something on, it's freezin'. If you get sick the baby gets sick."

Sam pouted. "No, he won't. It doesn't work that way."

"It's a boy?" Donna asked, interested.

"No, we don't know yet. So depending on Sam's mood, the baby's either 'he', 'she' or 'it'." Hyde turned back to Sam, "I'm serious, go put on a jacket or somethin'."

Sam sighed in frustration but disappeared down the basement stairs to do as he asked.

The three of them settled down at the kitchen table just as Kitty and Red walked in through the slider with Bob in tow. She spotted them already at the table and warned them to keep their hands off the food until the roast was done.

"What, you mean there's more?" Red asked with a touch of sarcasm that Kitty picked up in a flash.

She turned to face him and her eyes narrowed dangerously into slits. He got the message and backed off with his hands in the air, clearing his throat and hastily mumbling, "I mean, that's great!" with such false cheer that nobody was fooled.

Eric hid a smile at the exchange. He had missed this: his mother's warm kitchen, her food, her exchanges with his father, and his friends around the family dinner table.

He looked around and realized that it was exactly like how they used to have dinners. The company was the same, only before, he was head-over-heels in love with Donna who had been there as his girlfriend, and Hyde had been more like a brother to him instead of a rival for the love of his life. He shook his head, wondering at the irony of it all, and how much could change in just a couple of years.

"Jackie not joining us tonight, honey?" Kitty asked as she deposited the roast in the middle of the table.

"No," Eric answered absently, "she's working late, she really wants that spot at Global."

"Well, I'm sure she'll get it — the amount of hours she puts in at work," Kitty said. "Red," she called over her shoulder, "get me the carving knife will you?"

Donna was disturbed by the very natural way that Jackie was mentioned in the conversation and if she hadn't been so intent on figuring out why she didn't quite like what she was hearing, she would have noticed that Hyde, too, was similarly thrown by it.

Hyde on the other hand, knew exactly why he didn't like anything that Kitty and Eric had both said. But unlike Donna, the idea that Eric would ever be interested in someone like Jackie was so far-fetched that it didn't even register. He was just upset that he wasn't privy to this little bit of information about the girl that he was desperately trying to keep in his life.

"How'd you know so much about Jackie?" he asked loudly.

"Because she talks to me about it, Steven, dear," Kitty told him patiently before Eric could even open his mouth.

Kitty had a soft spot, a _very_ soft spot for Steven, she always did, so this was a difficult situation for her too. And now that she knew how deep her son's feelings were for the same girl that her other boy had so carelessly tossed aside, she couldn't help but try to play peacemaker. She knew with a mother's intuition and the wisdom of experience that 'shit will hit the fan' so to speak, once the truth came out, but right now, she just wanted her baby boy to be happy for as long as he could.

"She talks to me, and she visits, often. The poor girl has no mother to talk to about these things, I'm sure you can't begrudge her a maternal presence," she admonished, and set a few cuts of roast pork on Hyde's plate. "Eat up, honey," she told him.

Sufficiently distracted, Hyde gave her a big smile and dug in.

Dinner went by with no other mention of Jackie. Sam made a brief appearance more warmly dressed for winter temperatures and even swallowed a couple of mouthfuls of food that Hyde insisted she eat for the baby. Then with a wave and a sultry look in Eric's direction, she sashayed off to work.

"Steven, are you sure that girl should be working in her condition?" Kitty asked as the sliding door banged shut.

Hyde shrugged. "She's gotta earn her keep somehow. It's my kid, but she's not my wife."

"But still—" Kitty protested as he waved a hand and interrupted her.

"She won't be able to once she starts to show anyways — Club policy."

Kitty frowned. "Well at least she's not showing yet. Young bodies, hmph. When I was pregnant with your sister" —she turned to Eric— "I didn't start to show till I was at least five months along."

"Really?" Donna asked her, interested.

"Yes," Kitty confirmed. "But with Eric, you could tell when I was at three months. Your body never goes back the same way after your first pregnancy," she said ruefully. She nodded sagely towards Hyde. "She's got time yet. At least a month and a half before it gets really obvious and people won't think she's just getting fat. Ahahaha!"

Hyde looked uninterested at Sam's soon-to-be-obvious bump. Eric sympathized, and gave him credit that he was at least caring about the baby's nutritional well-being. He reached over and and gave Hyde's shoulder a manly squeeze.

Bob, who had been engaging Red in a one-sided conversation so far, looked across the table at Donna. "Y'know Pumpkin, when your mother was pregnant with you she had a glow about her." He smiled proudly. "Yep, she glowed for nine months."

"She did?" Donna replied.

Bob nodded with a mouth full of food. He swallowed and said, "You might too. There's a lot of her in you."

Donna nearly spat out her mouthful. She did _not_ appreciate being compared to Midge Pinciotti. Eric, who was next to her, gave her a sympathetic glance. He seemed to be dishing out a lot of sympathy this evening.

"No, there isn't," Donna muttered.

Bob didn't hear her and went on. "Y'know, I bet you'll have beautiful kids." He nudged Red in the side. "She's gonna have beautiful kids, ain't she, Red? I mean, she's good-lookin'. And Randy's a fine looking piece of man." He winked at Donna.

Donna's mouth dropped open and she glanced quickly at Eric. " _Dad_ ," she said in a strained tone and through gritted teeth.

Bob looked surprised. "What Honeybun? He _is_ ," he insisted, turning to Kitty, "ain't he?"

Kitty nodded enthusiastically and a laugh trilled out. "Ahahaha! He is indeed!" She waggled her eyebrows at Donna.

Donna looked horrified. Her eyes kept flicking to Eric as she protested loudly. "We're not there yet, alright! Stop talking about us having kids!"

"Yeah, whatever. Sometimes a baby just happens. Don't matter if you're there or not," Hyde uttered grimly. He stabbed at his plate. "I'm definitely not there, man."

Eric reached out and gave him a sympathetic thump on the back.

* * *

After dinner and the dishes had been cleared, Eric found his way to the hood of the Vista Cruiser absently spinning a basketball in his hands. It was cold, but he welcomed it. Enjoyed it, even, for it was a biting, clean sort of a cold. He had grown up with this cold, and it had been missing in Africa. It was hard to explain, but he felt as if it had restored a piece of him from before that had been lost during his time in Africa.

He heard the slider open but didn't bother to turn his head towards the newcomer who was interrupting his peace. Heavy footsteps announced that it was Hyde.

"Hey," Hyde said, and clambered up the Cruiser next to him. He shook out a cigarette and raised an eyebrow when Eric reached for the box in his hand too. They lit up and inhaled.

"Somethin' else that's different," Hyde commented off-handedly.

The corners of Eric's lips lifted, and he blew out smoke.

Hyde grinned. "I like this one though."

Eric chuckled. "You would."

They sat in companionable silence with the muffled sounds of the others in the Forman kitchen coming through the closed slider. Hyde ventured a question that had been hovering ever since his best friend came back.

"What happened over there, man?"

Eric stiffened so imperceptibly that no one except for Jackie would have noticed. Hyde remained oblivious that he had touched a rare nerve and looked at Eric expectantly.

Eric blew out more smoke. "Nothing," he said impassively, lifting his shoulder in a shrug.

Hyde looked unconvinced, but accepted Eric's answer at face-value. "Right," he said. A man had a right to his own privacy. "Someday then," he offered.

"Yeah, maybe."

They had gotten to the end of their sticks when Eric flicked his into the slushy ground and sighed heavily. "Look, man," he started evenly, "about Jackie-"

Hyde interrupted him and extinguished his own cigarette. "Naw it's cool. I get it. Sorta, anyways. S'pose it was really the only place left for her to go - Africa." He let out a sigh of his own. "You were her only friend left of all of us."

He turned to Eric. "Thanks for lookin' out for her, man."

Eric shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hyde," he tried again, "it's not that. Jackie and I-"

The slider door opened loudly and Donna stuck her head out.

"Hyde!" she called. "Phone. It's Sam."

Hyde rolled his eyes skyward. "Woman can't leave me alone," he muttered and jumped off the car. "Later, Forman," he said to Eric and stalked off.

Eric watched him enter the house and bit back a curse. He wanted Jackie and him out in the open and he would rather he bore the brunt of the backlash that was sure in coming.

Donna made her way over to him, huddling against the cold. She took Hyde's place on the Cruiser next to him and took the ball from Eric's hands. She spun it around in hers, mimicking his earlier actions and mulled over matters in her mind and heart as Eric sat silently next to her.

"I miss you," she blurted out, then looked terrified at what she had said. She weighed the impact of her words in the night air and took a deep breath as she bravely pushed on. "I miss you and... And I want 'us' back again."

She looked at him with bated breath and waited for his answer. His face was set in stone and she couldn't read anything off him. She was beginning to suspect that this was part of this older, unfamiliar version of him now.

The basketball started spinning crazily in her hands. She wasn't used to this. It used to be the other way around, where he would be the nervous one with no idea what to do with his hands. Her knee started bouncing and she looked hard at him, willing him to say something.

Eric continued to sit stonily beside her. God, what a mess. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated and he was sick of complicated. He heaved an inward sigh.

"It's late, Donna, you should get some sleep," he said finally.

Donna was crushed. She had not expected this as a reply. Not at all. They always came back to each other. They _always_ did. They were Donna and Eric, Eric and Donna, after all.

She opened her mouth to protest. But Eric had anticipated her move and patted her knee chastely as he slid nimbly off the hood of his Cruiser. Unthinkingly, she copied his movements, and slid off the car too, reluctant to let him leave. The friendly touch to her knee had sparked an entirely different reaction in Donna. Her pulse had leapt at his touch.

He shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his car keys, giving her a tired sort of smile. "Goodnight, Donna."

She stepped to the side of the driveway as he pulled out, her heart thumping wildly at her confession, what it meant to her and Randy, and the heat of his fingers where they had innocently been on her knee.


	60. Chapter 60

"Eric, look! Those are _gor-_ geous!" Jackie exclaimed excitedly as she squeezed his arm.

They were at the mall as they had both decided to take a half day off from work to spend time together. It had been a pleasant afternoon for the both of them, and both the mall and the shops were decked out festively and the jingle of bells could be heard at every turn.

Eric looked over to see what had gotten her so excited and smiled to himself as he spotted the attractive display at the jewelry store. It made quite a picture, as the display windows had gotten inspiration from nature, and a couple of sparkly earrings dangled from a small tree branch that was painted white in the spirit of winter. Several rings of the same design clustered around the base of the branch, each boasting a main stone of a different color, and Eric could pretty much only identify a green stone that he was sure was an emerald, and a purple one that he knew was amethyst because of the promise ring that he had suggested that Hyde get Jackie. The rest of the stones, one a deep red, another in a striking blue, and the last a golden-orange, he had absolutely no clue as to what they could be.

"Wanna go take a look?" he asked Jackie and she nodded her head eagerly. They moved closer to the store and Eric was mentally calculating if he was able to get her whatever it was that caught her eye when she pulled him past the sparkly displays without even a look in their direction to the handicraft store next to it.

It was an open kind of store, with no doors and no glass windows, and seated in front at the entrance on a three-tiered rack were rows and rows of pinwheels in many shapes and sizes.

But these weren't just your ordinary four-leafed pinwheels. They were Chinese pinwheels, and were so elaborate they looked more like mini Ferris wheels in a dizzying multitude of colors and patterns. The breeze from the overhead ceiling fan in the store sent them spinning like a shimmering circular rainbow and Jackie bounced about in glee next to him.

"Look. Look!" she breathed with her fingers clasped just before her face and her eyes transfixed. "Oh Eric, these are perfect!"

Eric was quite honestly, dumbfounded. He had no idea why in the world pinwheels were suddenly all the rage with her, but he was quite taken with the excitement in her eyes and her overall happiness.

"Mmmm, yes, they are," he said indulgently and slung an arm around her shoulders, hugging her to his side. They looked at the spinning wheels of color for several more seconds.

"We have to get them," she said decisively. "All of them."

He raised an eyebrow.

All of them? Wasn't that a bit excessive? Where was she gonna put them?

"Right," he said.

She grabbed a basket from the stack at the side and started filling them up with pinwheels.

Oh, so she was serious.

Eric took the basket from her and stood dutifully by while she collected all thirty on display. He frowned a little as he looked at the overflowing basket. He thought about her huge lawn at the mansion and thought that it would probably cheer the dreary place up a little. Her sudden obsession made more sense to him.

His felt a pang, and a sudden rush of love and affection for the beautiful girl by his side and leaned down to give her a lingering kiss that quite took her by surprise.

"You know that you'll never have to be alone again as long as I'm here, right?"

She looked a bit dazed from his kiss, but blinked at his words. "Yes?" she replied confusedly.

He kissed her again, lightly. He looked deep into her eyes. "I'll be here if you want me. Always."

"Oh Eric."

They were interrupted when the store clerk called them over to check out her items and a few minutes later they left the store with Jackie happily inspecting her purchases. They found a bench to sit on nearby as Jackie pulled out the biggest pinwheel and leaned into his side. She held it out in front of them and he spun it with a finger.

"God, the kids will love this," she breathed.

Eric shifted a little. "Kids?" he asked inquiringly.

She nodded and leaned up to kiss his chin. "Yeah, at your yard. Put, like, all of them around the yard, or clustered in a row at the edge. Imagine what it'll look like in the sun when the wind sends them all spinning."

Her eyes took on a faraway look as memory took her back to Africa. "It'll be beautiful, Eric. They'll love them. It'll be absolutely wonderful — I don't think they've ever seen anything like these before."

Realization dawned. Eric's arm around her tightened and the rush of love he felt earlier for her paled in comparison to what he was feeling now. He pressed a long kiss to the top of her head and inhaled the sweetness of her hair. " _Those_ kids, huh?" he said, trying to keep his tone even.

She nodded and swiveled around, swinging her jean-clad legs up over his. "Yeah, imagine how happy they'll be."

She smiled at the thought and wished she could be around to see that. Maybe she would ask Eric to take a picture and send it back to her. Her smile dimmed a little at their uncertain future but she pushed it away, determined to stay in the warm fuzziness of the now.

"They'll love them," he agreed. "I'll tell them that Miss Jackie sent them along with her love."

Her eyes brightened and she hugged his waist. "That'll be great," she told him softly.

He glanced at his watch and reluctantly shifted her legs off his. "We gotta go if we wanna make it back in time for dinner. Mom told me seven, and we know how Red gets when he's hungry."

"You're sure Steven and Sam won't be around to join us?" Jackie asked him.

He nodded an affirmative. "Yeah. Mom said they're both hardly ever back before nine at night."

Jackie grasped his outstretched hand as he helped her to her feet. "Okay."

* * *

They made it back with time to spare and Jackie really enjoyed herself at dinner with Eric and his parents. It was their first meal together as a foursome, and she found that she could really get used to this. She felt part of a proper family for once, and it was something very special to her. Conversation flowed naturally, and Kitty was able to ask all sorts of questions about Africa, and Jackie finally found herself being able to share her experiences there openly with them, without feeling the familiar ache and pine, for Eric was right there by her side now.

Eric didn't speak much, except to add on to details she might have missed, or to correct a skewed version or two. It was clear that both Red and Kitty hungered for this part of their son's life that they had missed out on, and Jackie did her best to fill them in on the happy times, and as always taking great care with Eric's privacy and making sure to steer clear of anything related to events that she knew he would rather his parents know nothing of.

His pain was his own, and his suffering was his own, and it would do no service to his parents if they were to know of what he had gone through - Eric was firm on that, and Jackie understood it.

After dinner and the dishes had been cleared, they headed down to the basement, desirous of time alone in each other's company.

They turned the television on out of habit, but soon found that they were more interested in each other than the TV.

"I've been wanting to do this all day," Eric murmured as he trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

"Really?" she asked breathlessly, and then giggled as he nuzzled the sensitive spot under her ear.

"Yeah, really." His hand slid up to cup the curve of her bottom and he squeezed gently. "And this too. Those jeans of yours are crazy tight. They've been driving me nuts all day."

"My jeans or..." she trailed off innocently as she wiggled her bottom in the palm of his hand.

He laughed softly, enjoying her playful mood. "What do you think?" he asked her sensuously, and gave her bottom another squeeze. His hand disappeared up under her top then, and trailed up her side, his thumb lightly tracing the lacy cups of her bra.

She shivered and her breathing quickened. He looked into her eyes, waiting for her to change her mind, but he saw nothing in them to discourage him. His own eyes darkened then, and his thumb slid down to brush across her nipple through the thinness of her bra. He played with it lazily under her top, then pushed up her bra and fastened his mouth where his thumb had been, laving at it through her top. She gasped and his other hand reached up under her sweater to massage her other breast.

Her breasts were incredibly sensitive, and he knew that, and he took his time with them. He missed this, he missed her, and soon he craved the feeling of her velvety skin in his mouth. She helped him raise her top up over her head, but they didn't bother with the bra, leaving it bunched up above her breasts. She groaned when his mouth fastened over her without the barrier of cloth in between and her legs naturally wrapped themselves around his waist as she clutched at his head with her hands.

He desperately wanted to go lower, to the core of her, but willed his mouth and hands to stay above her waist. He knew that she was still uncomfortable and guilty about their relationship as it was, and didn't want to make it harder for her. But it was _so_ incredibly difficult to do so when she was making those sounds that got him harder each passing second, and was rubbing herself against the part of him that was already straining to be free from the confines of his jeans.

Africa had conditioned him, and what he had been through had sharpened his reflexes, for being taken off-guard had nearly led to his death before. And it was because of that that he was able to register unwelcome voices in the kitchen above, even when his senses were so thoroughly filled with the girl below him at the moment.

He pulled back from Jackie and for a brief, very brief, moment, debated whether it was preferable to just let Hyde find them this way. But there was that streak of honor in Eric, and besides Jackie's modesty that he would protect at all costs, there was also the guaranteed ugliness of the consequence in such a revelation to Hyde, and that, he would cut his own arm off to spare Jackie from ever going through.

"Babe," he told Jackie quietly, and his hands were already swiftly pulling down her bra to cover her breasts and groping for her discarded sweater. "Hyde's upstairs and will come down any moment."

His voice was carefully steady so as not to send her into a panic. Jackie's legs were still tightly wound around his waist, and it took her a moment to register what he was saying.

"Omigod!" she gasped and started pushing at his hands and grasping at her sweater only to find that Eric had already gotten it over her head. She shoved her arms through the sleeves and nearly caused serious injury to his manhood when she swung her legs violently off the couch. It was then that she noticed the obvious bulge in his crotch and gestured frantically towards it.

"How're we gonna hide that?" she whispered in a frenzy.

Eric grimaced, and grabbed a cushion from the lawn chair nearest the basement door. He nodded toward her red sweater where his mouth had been earlier and left a glaring wet spot above her nipple.

"I think we're gonna have more trouble hiding that."

"Crap! Crap! No no!"

He held out a hand to steady her, gently holding her chin in his fingers. "Relax, it'll be fine."

He sat her back down on the couch and pulled the scarf she had been wearing earlier from where she had left it behind the couch. He wound it around her neck and left the sides hanging to cover the spot.

"There, see, all good."

She glanced down and noticed that it was indeed all covered. Her eyes slowly lost that panicked look in them.

"Relax," he repeated. "It's okay, I'm here with you." He squeezed her hand and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She gave him a shaky smile in return.

Hyde clumped down the stairs, dragging Sam along by the hand. Following in their wake was Randy and Donna.

"Great, looks like almost the whole gang is here," Eric said under his breath.

Jackie's barely-there smile turned brittle.

The foursome on the stairs didn't notice the couple on the couch at first, for they were arguing fiercely about something.

"You do _not,_ ever invite your stripper friends and their clients over to my store. Ever!" Hyde fumed at Sam, nearly foaming at the mouth. "And you!" He spun around with his index finger pointed like a trigger. They reached the bottom of the stairs and he stuck that finger an inch from Randy's nose. "You! You do not follow _any_ instructions from her! _At all!_ "

"Come on, Hyde," Donna interjected. "It was good business."

" _How_ is giving away free records good business?" Hyde asked nastily, frustration oozing from every pore.

"Okay, maybe not that part, but the strippers helped bring in customers?" she ventured, swiftly changing tactics.

Randy looked at her gratefully. "And come on, man," he said, turning to Hyde. "She said she was your fiancée, and how can I question my boss' fiancée?"

Donna nodded emphatically, like this was common knowledge.

Hyde's eyes shot open so wide Eric was certain they could've rolled onto the floor.

 _"What?!_ " he gasped, sounding so strangled there could have been a noose around his neck. _"What?"_ he repeated, nearly choking with the preposterousness of the allegation.

Everyone, including Jackie turned towards Hyde with a frown.

"You mean, you didn't know?" Jackie asked unthinkingly from the couch.

"What! That I was engaged?!"

It was proof of how gobsmacked Hyde was that he didn't even question Jackie and Eric's rather rare appearance these days in the basement.

"Of course not! Because we are _not engaged_!" he yelled the last two words at Sam.

He suddenly seemed to notice something winking on the ring finger of her left hand. He seized the offending finger roughly. "What's that?"

"My engagement ring, baby," Sam said, looking confused as hell at events unfolding. "You were going to give this to me."

"What! No!"

Sam's expression darkened menacingly. "Yes!" she insisted, with a stomp of her foot. "I found it! And you can't take it back!"

Hyde was dumbfounded. He had no idea how Jackie's promise ring ended up an engagement ring on Sam's finger. His mouth opened and closed but he could barely force a coherent word past his lips. "I- You- I- Take it off!" he sputtered instead.

"No!" she retorted, shaking her head stubbornly.

Hyde made a sound like a strangled chicken and stalked off to his room. A second later, they heard his door slam.

There was a moment of silence before Sam burst into noisy tears. Before Jackie could react, she rushed across the room and was crying into Jackie's shoulder.

Stunned, all Jackie could do was to rub her back soothingly. "Er, don't cry," she said, exchanging a look with Eric. "I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding."

Eric leaned back into the couch and smirked. He recognized the ring on Sam's finger. "I'm sure," he echoed.

If he wasn't so amused with the entire situation he would have groaned at the added implications of Hyde's having kept that ring after all this time. Jackie had told him about Hyde's intention with the promise ring, and had even mentioned that she knew that he had suggested it to Hyde. But she had never seen the ring, so she was clueless as to what it looked like.

He wondered if he should tell her.

He was distracted from his thoughts when Donna and the tall blonde guy he had earlier surmised was Randy finally cleared the stairs and headed over to the couch. He found himself thanking Sam for the drama when he had to rid himself of the cushion on his lap and stand up to shake Randy's proffered hand.

"Hey, I'm Eric," he said by way of introduction.

Randy's smile seemed a little forced. "Randy Pearson. Donna's boyfriend," he said in a manner loaded with meaning.

Ah. That explained the somewhat tight grip he had on Eric's hand. "I know, I've heard about you for a long time."

"You have?" The grip on Eric's hand loosened a little.

"Yeah, of course, man. Donna's boyfriend. My mom loves you."

Randy suddenly found it slightly easier to breathe. He released Eric's hand and slid his arm possessively around Donna's waist. "Yeah, your mom's great," he said. He wasn't normally a competitive or possessive kind of guy, but something about Eric rubbed him the wrong way. "I built her sewing table for her," he added, pride in his tone.

"You did? Good for you," answered Eric easily. "I saw it, it's good work. The only thing I ever made in this house was—"

"—a birdhouse that you painted the hole on 'cos you were afraid of the saw," Donna finished with a smile on her face.

Eric looked at her in surprise. "You remember that?"

Donna shrugged and glanced at him before shifting her gaze to the ground. "Yeah, of course I do. And Red still has it. Though he calls it a useless piece of crap."

Jackie sat silently as Sam's bawls dwindled down to loud hiccups, keenly observing the interaction between Randy and Eric. Relieved that Eric showed no jealousy whatsoever towards Donna's boyfriend, her thoughts drifted to what Red would say if he saw how Eric handled an ax. Or what Randy's reaction would be to the elaborate yard Eric built with his bare hands for the kids in Africa. A sewing table seemed paltry in comparison.

She opened her mouth, determine to wipe the superior smirk off Randy's face when she caught Eric's look in her direction. His eyes warned her off and she blew out an exasperated breath.

"What was that?" Donna asked suddenly, looking between the two of them.

Jackie gave a start. She couldn't help herself, and now that she was assured that Eric didn't seem to harbor any lingering feelings for his ex, a million and one things that she should not be doing with her best friend's ex-fiancé flashed through her mind like a Rolodex. She frantically started sifting through which one Donna meant.

"What was what?" Eric interjected calmly.

"That. That look. You guys shared a look."

Sam ceased sniffling and started to take great interest in the turn of the conversation.

"Yeah, she was about to say something I would rather she didn't."

"Oh." Donna stepped away from Randy and took one closer to Eric. "H-how did you know what she was gonna say," she said, sounding odd. After all, Eric never learnt to read her that well through all their years together.

Eric looked at Donna patiently. "I've come to know Jackie very well."

"Oh," she said again. Her eyes followed Eric as he dropped down next to Jackie on the couch, then swept between the two of them.

Jackie struggled to keep her expression neutral, but she was never really very good at hiding her emotions in the first place. She was sure that guilt was written over her every feature and she cast her eyes downward and surreptitiously tried to inch away from Eric's body on the couch.

Eric picked up on it straightaway and a small frown made an appearance between his brows. Hyde's door crashed open just as Eric started to openly reach for Jackie's hand. Because though he was willing to go along with her idea of 'easing' their friends into the idea of them as a couple, but as he told her, he flat out wasn't going to sneak around.

"You found it in here, didn't you?" Hyde thundered from the back. In his right hand was an old box that looked like it used to contain a pair of boots and he was waving it around manically.

Jackie felt Eric's fingers close around her own just as everyone else turned to look at Hyde. She immediately tugged away as if he burned. She saw a shuttered expression come over his face and she squashed down the nagging voice that told her that she had hurt him.

Hyde marched over and brandished the box at Sam. "Didn't you?" he repeated furiously.

"Yes!"

"Well, it's not yours!" he yelled and reached over and tried to tug it off her finger.

"No!" She snatched her hand back and cradled it protectively to her. Her eyes filled again. "If it's not mine then whose is it?"

Hyde's mouth slammed shut and his eyes flashed ice-blue fire.

He didn't reply and Sam cried out. "You're— You're cheating on me!"

She looked devastated and her hand immediately went to cover her stomach. "I'm carrying your child and you're _cheating_?"

Jackie had been observing their fight as closely as everyone else in the room and realization dawned. She didn't know why it had taken her this long to figure it out but now it was so glaringly obvious — it was hers. Her ring. The promise ring that Steven was supposed to give her that Sam had found.

"Sam, he isn't," Jackie said gently to the girl beside her. She reached up to touch her arm and pull her back down to sit next to her on the couch.

"Steven's not cheating on you," she said with a glance at Hyde, trying to figure if he would be grateful or try to murder her if she went down with the story she was going to tell Sam. "This is a promise ring, you know those?"

Sam sniffled, seemingly soothed by Jackie's consoling tone. "Y-yeah." She nodded and gratefully accepted a tissue from Jackie. "Eric g-gave one to Donna. S-she told me about t-those."

"Yes, well, this is one. It's not an engagement ring, and you shouldn't be wearing it if he didn't officially propose to you anyway."

"But it was s-so pretty! And I couldn't k-keep waiting!" Sam wailed.

"Right. But now you've put him in a spot." Jackie bit her lip and took the plunge, figuring that if Steven was going to do her any bodily harm, she was sure Eric would step in and save her, even if she did hurt him earlier. "You see, you've robbed him of the chance to properly give you this ring. To promise you a promise of the future."

She chanced a quick look at Steven and saw his eyes go wide. She was surprised that he had even let her go on this far without interrupting, and decided to throw caution to the wind.

"He really, _really_ wanted to make it special when he finally gave it to you," she finished with a pat on Sam's hand and a reassuring smile.

"I- You- _What?!_ " Hyde gasped.

"Steven," she said warningly, though she did try to scoot a little closer to Eric behind the couch, highly aware that a few minutes earlier she was scooting along in the opposite direction away from him. She grimaced at her behavior.

Sam turned eyes that were bright with hope Hyde's way. "You were?" she breathed. "You were really going to try to be a family with our baby?"

She sounded so hopeful and so unlike her usual self that Jackie's heart softened a little towards her. Maybe underneath her apparent disregard for it, Sam really did want something concrete for the future like everyone else.

Hyde looked furious. And stuck between a rock and a hard place.

He looked at Sam.

He looked at Jackie.

He looked at his friends, but none of them looked like they were going to throw him a lifeline.

Donna was looking at him expectantly.

Randy was interested, but seemed as if he had something more worrisome on his mind than his boss' drama at the moment.

He looked at Eric, certain that he would find a way out there, but Forman was closed off and sitting way closer to Jackie than Hyde would have personally preferred.

He was on his own.

A family. A future. With _Sam_. He glanced at Jackie again and saw that she was pleading with him to take it. The lousy, stupid, lame-ass bit of a lie that she had tossed out for shit knew what reason.

He looked back at Sam and his eyes fell down to her tummy. A baby. His baby. Their baby.

He figured that no matter what, as long as his child existed, he would be forever tied to Sam. So a future for him would always include Sam anyway.

Somewhere. Preferably in the background while he was happily together with Jackie, but, whatever it was, Sam was going to be there. _Some_ where.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Like she said." He jerked his chin in Jackie's direction.

He looked in his doll's eyes and saw approval there. _Fine_ , he thought, _that's what really matters after all._

Sam squealed and rushed around the couch to pull him into a hug. He stood and bore it, together with the kisses and the 'I love you's' that she was always saying to him.

He needed a circle, and he craved a drink.

Sam never took the ring off; and what was once Jackie's promise ring, came to find its home on Sam's finger.


	61. Chapter 61

Another week passed and Christmas drew closer.

Donna and Jackie were both in Milwaukee trolling the malls and fighting the crowds to get last minute gifts for their friends.

"Ooof," said Donna, as a hefty middle-aged woman shoved past her muttering something about inconsiderate youngsters. "Watch it, lady!" Donna hollered after her.

"Don't you love Christmas shopping?" Jackie asked her brightly.

She received a sour look in return. "Yeah," Donna muttered darkly, " _love_ it."

They filtered past a couple of stores which Donna spared a cursory look at while Jackie hummed happily at her side.

"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Donna grumbled.

A slight flush tinted the apples of Jackie's cheeks. Things had gotten hot and heavy with Eric last night. Really hot and heavy. The only reason why they haven't yet had sex was really because of her. It felt to her like if they did then it would really be betraying her friends.

It was hard on her, as she was naturally forgiving by nature, and given how sincerely and genuinely they've been treating her lately, she was having a really difficult time pretending that what she and Eric were doing was perfectly fine, and accepting that it was really, of nobody's business but their own.

She knew she was being selfish, of course, and though she wished there was a way that she and Eric could just _be_ ; at the moment, the thought of Donna and Steven finding out about them frightened her far more than Eric's growing displeasure about hiding their relationship — if they could even call it that.

Again, Eric seemed to understand her on a level that scared even her. Maybe because he didn't want to face the disappointment of her telling him to, but he had stopped things before they had gone too far the number of times they had been alone at Jackie's place. Each time, she knew it was harder and harder for him to stop, and that it hurt him when she didn't protest when he did, especially now when every time she looked into his eyes she could see the depth of his feelings for her.

She didn't know what drove her to do so, it may be the ever-lingering weight of guilt, or the feeling that she was never giving enough, but she had decided what to get Eric for Christmas and had marched straight to the lingerie department earlier before meeting Donna and purchased a babydoll silk number that she knew that he would love on her. It left her feeling as if she had gotten a large weight off her chest and at the same time squashing internal voices that screamed at her that she was doing it for all the wrong reasons.

"So what did you get for Randy?" Jackie asked Donna, effectively changing the subject.

If it was possible, Donna's features darkened further. She snapped a retort at another lady who bustled past her with a nasty comment and grumbled out a reply to Jackie. "Lingerie."

Jackie frowned. "Sounds like a night of fun. Or... Not?" she asked hesitantly with a glance at her friend.

Donna blew out a breath and looked around her. It took her a while before she mumbled, "I'm just not feeling it with Randy these days." Then in an even lower tone, "Sex seems like a chore."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Donna made a face. "I kinda do it to make him happy, alright?"

Jackie lifted a shoulder slightly. "Can't be that much of a chore. Randy's pretty much gorgeous."

"I know," came the answer. "Which makes it so much worse," Donna groaned.

Jackie bit her lip. She didn't want to ask because she didn't want to hear the answer, but it came out before she could bite it back. "Is it Eric?" she asked Donna in a low voice.

Donna didn't bother to reply and her silence was answer enough.

The knot in Jackie's stomach tightened.

They walked past a bookstore and a couple of other stores, being careful to avoid bumping into people with armfuls of shopping bags. Some carollers singing "'Tis the Season" sounded somewhere to their left. Jackie felt her mood dip further with each step. The bag of lingerie hanging on her left arm felt heavier and heavier.

* * *

Kitty, as usual, had managed to rope in as many of Eric's friends as possible to help put up the Christmas decorations. She bustled around, shoving armfuls of mistletoe and holly and ordered them to put them up in various places around the house.

Also as usual, only Eric and Donna seemed to be doing the actual work, while Hyde and Fez somehow managed to slink out of sight. They were currently alone in the basement putting up the last of the decorations and working together in a quiet harmony.

When they were all done, they took a step back to survey their work around the room.

"Right, I hope Mom will be pleased," Eric muttered, glancing at his watch to see if he could make it in time to pick Jackie up from work.

Donna didn't say anything and he looked at her to find her gazing at him with a peculiar expression on her face.

"Look, Eric," she glanced upwards. "Mistletoe."

Eric followed her gaze and saw the tiny sprig hanging above their heads.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, Donna. I don't think this is a good idea," he said gently and turned to walk away.

Donna reached out and grabbed his forearm. She felt the strength in it and her heart skipped a few beats.

"Eric..."

He stopped, but didn't turn around. He blew out a breath, but before he could say anything, Donna moved around him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He saw her eyes close as she leaned in and kissed him with all the passion she was feeling and tried to push her tongue past his closed lips.

By sheer instinct, Eric felt his arms close around her. The feel and smell and taste of her was all so familiar, but it felt wrong. He wanted the press of fuller lips, the clean, sweet scent of flowers and sunshine and a tiny frame that fit perfectly into his body.

He pulled away after a second, but it was a second too long for Eric. With a slight shake of his head he said, "No, Donna."

She looked crushed. He looked into her blue-gray eyes, eyes that he had loved for most of his life, but all he felt was a deep affection for a friend. They both spoke at the same time:

"There's someone—,"

"But Eric, I—,"

She looked at him and soldiered on, not hearing what he said.

"Eric, I still love you."

"Donna..."

"No Eric, please listen. You don't have to say anything or do anything in return. It's just that I've realized that these past two years that you've been gone that there's this… absence… in my heart a-and my life and I'm just coming to realize that it's because of you. T-that this absence _is_ you."

"Donna, I—,"

Donna pressed on, ignoring him.

"Eric, I-I _know_ why you left for Africa, I see that now. I understand that you did it all for me, for us, and I was just too blind, too stupid, too selfish to accept that it was _you_ who was making something of yourself, _you_ and not me."

She looked at him pleadingly, earnestly. "I realize that I do. I do love you. And it's always just been you."

Eric's lips flattened into a line and he ran a hand down his face.

"Donna," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "You're with Randy now. You're living with him. You're in a serious relationship — far more serious than our relationship ever was."

She set her jaw and shook her head stubbornly.

"Donna," he tried again, "things are different now. You're different, and I'm different." He placed a hand on her shoulder and said gently, "What used to work for us won't anymore."

She looked at him with damp eyes. "But don't you see—,"

She never got to finish her sentence as the basement door banged open suddenly and Hyde and Fez trooped in.

"Forman! Donna!" Hyde exclaimed, catching sight of the two of them and clearly in buoyant spirits about something. "Kelso's invited us over for the New Year, man!"

"Yeah," Fez chimed in, "that means..." He turned to Hyde and the both of them beamed and chorused, "Road trip!"

"Come on," Fez added, just noticing the rather grave expressions on both Eric's and Donna's faces, "it'll be fun!"

Eric cleared his throat and stepped away from Donna, giving them both a strained smile.

Hyde looked at him and then Donna and then back to Eric again. He came to the conclusion that their on-again off-again relationship would probably be heading to the vicinity of 'on-again'.

"Ah," he said, nodding his head wisely.

Donna gave him an exasperated look and turned to Eric, an unnamed emotion in her eyes. "Fez is right. It _will_ be fun. Just like old times, right Eric?" she asked him softly, and only he could hear the note of hope in her voice.

Eric didn't answer, but Fez did. "Just like old times! Yay!"

Eric sighed inwardly. A long weekend with him and Jackie, and two of Jackie's exes and his ex-fiancée. This was an epically bad idea.


	62. Chapter 62

The eve of Christmas saw all of them, minus Kelso and his family, at the Formans' living room, which had been decked out to the nines with Kitty's biggest tree yet, and fairy lights and holly all over the room.

Kitty was nearly floating with happiness, having her only son back after spending two years away was bliss to her. She had overcooked, as usual, but no one was complaining, and even Red seemed indulgent with her contagiously cheery mood.

She had set up a long table in the middle of the room and had set up a strict seating plan: putting Donna and Randy next to each other at the far end, and seated Hyde and Sam opposite the pair of them. Fez took the seat between Randy and Jackie and then came Eric who was seated right next to Red at the head of the table. Kitty sat on his left, and Joanne and Bob rounded up the circle. Kitty had wanted both Hyde and Donna as far away from Eric and Jackie as possible.

Jackie noticed this, and was incredibly grateful. She was nervous about her Christmas present to Eric as it already was, and as always, the pressure to constantly watch herself around Eric because of Hyde and Donna had her wound as tight as a drum.

She listened to Kitty as Kitty tearfully made a toast welcoming her son back and thanking everyone for the wonderful company that evening and cheered with the rest of them as they downed their champagne. She was unaware that her left knee was bouncing spasmodically until she felt Eric's warm hand on it halfway through their first course. She nearly jumped out of her chair, and received an odd look from Fez on her right.

"You okay?" Eric asked her in concern.

She gave him an overly bright smile and downed her glass of champagne. It was her second in fifteen minutes, and already she could feel it going to her head.

"Yup! Just fine," she said in a pitch higher than her usual tone.

He eyed her but didn't say anything more. She felt him squeeze her knee again before his hand went back up to the table to pick up the knife he had set down on his plate.

Jackie had inhaled five flutes of champagne in total by the end of the evening and was feeling very happily buzzed.

"You're my best friend in the whole wide world, lumberjack!" she crowed and flung her arm around Donna's waist in a big side hug.

Everyone was milling about the living room and settling themselves on the couch or whatever other seats they could find and the mood was lively and upbeat.

Donna smiled down amusedly at her dark head. "You too, midget," she replied.

Jackie grinned toothily and pointed at Randy. "And you, you have _magnificent_ hair. Why," she said and touched her own raven locks, "I might even let you do mine! Just how do you get so much _body_ in it?" She squinted at him enviously trying to figure out the secret of his perfect blow-dry when Hyde materialized at her side. He had an indecipherable smile on his face as he observed her.

"You're cute when you're drunk," he finally said to her in his usual short, gravelly way.

She frowned, trying to figure out if he was being sarcastic or not. It was giving her a headache, so she decided to ignore the statement and ignore him. She spun around and spotted Eric coming in from the kitchen and her expression brightened.

She was about to shout out an effusive greeting and say something unforgivable like she missed him in the five minutes that he had been gone, when she tripped over her own feet and saved herself from certain doom.

Hyde deftly caught her as she nearly hit the ground with her face.

"Whoa," he said, as he hauled her up with an arm around her waist. "Careful, doll." His other hand slid around her side as he tried to steady her.

Jackie shook her hair out of her eyes and leaned heavily on him for balance as the world righted itself on its axis.

Eric happened to see them at that exact moment and a truly ugly emotion reared in his gut. He never realized how much he hated seeing anyone's hands on _his_ girl before, and how much more he hated seeing that those hands belonged to Hyde. They rested on Jackie familiarly and he wanted to pound his friend into pulp.

Jealousy roared, and Eric thought to hell with easing everyone into their secret. His jaw clenched and his fist tightened, but before he could make another move, Red stepped into his path.

"Not what it looks like, son," he said quietly.

Eric stared at his father coolly, though the line of his shoulders was tense. He forced himself to relax.

"The girl tripped," Red explained. He handed Eric his drink. "Here, have some of mine."

Eric took it but didn't drink.

Red looked at him, and wondered how to start. "Kitty and Jackie," he began awkwardly, "they care about Steven and Donna. I'm not saying you don't, but they've got a couple of big hearts and that's why we love 'em." He looked around Eric and his eyes rested fondly on his wife. "It's hard for them to hurt people they care about and this thing that the two of you've got" -he gestured with two fingers between Eric and Jackie's far-off figure at the other side of the room- "is going to hurt both Steven and Donna something bad."

He looked sympathetically at his son. "Give it time, things have a way of working themselves out."

Eric grimaced. He stared down at the swirling amber liquid in the glass then tilted his head back and downed it in a gulp. "Thanks, Dad," he muttered.

* * *

Fez was plastered so Kitty made up the basement couch for him and told him to sleep it off there. Jackie had sobered up sufficiently by then, but was still in no position to drive, so the responsibility naturally fell to Eric to take her home - of which he had no complaints about.

They got into the Vista Cruiser, happy to be alone again after the boisterous evening with their friends and his family.

She leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes when they stopped at a light. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and she looked beautiful. Eric couldn't resist leaning over and kissing her lightly on the lips.

She opened her lovely eyes and smiled at him. "I haven't given you my Christmas present," she said softly.

He smiled back at her. "What, you mean that framed limited edition comic book was just for show then?" he asked, referring to the exchanging of presents earlier that evening.

She nodded. "Yep."

She looked nervous and Eric wondered why. Before he had a chance to think upon it, the lights turned green and he stepped onto the accelerator.

She was quiet all through the drive back to her house though their hands had remained linked liked they had since they got into the car. She turned around as she unlocked her front door and whispered, "Stay?"

"Yeah," he said.

He followed her up to her bedroom and made himself comfortable on her large bed as he always did.

"Give me a minute, I'll just go get it for you," she told him with another nervous smile over her shoulder. She disappeared into the walk-in closet and he heard her rummaging around and the sound of paper crinkling. She emerged several minutes later and he had a hard time breathing.

She looked like every man's wet dream. Or in particular, _his_ wet dream in a vision of silk and lace. It was cut dangerously low in the front and cupped her breasts delightfully and his fingers itched to reveal what the silk barely covered. From there it billowed out and skimmed her hips, and as she twirled around for him slowly, he saw that she was wearing a matching thong in the same shade as the top.

"Merry Christmas," she said shyly.

He nearly scorched her with the fire in his eyes. Getting up with great difficulty, he walked over to where she was. Her hair was up in a messy knot and he pulled it out as the gleaming mass fell around her shoulders and down her back. He wrapped his fingers around her neck and ran them up the back of her head. She could feel the heat of him through his pants and boldly stepped forward to press her hips against his. He sucked in a breath and hardened even further.

Her hand went to the waistband of his pants but he stopped her, leaning his forehead against hers regretfully.

Whatever reaction she had been expecting from him, this was not it.

He pulled her back towards the bed and sat down, reaching out to pull her into his lap. "Come here."

She went to him easily and nestled into his broad frame as his chin went to its usual spot on the top of her head. After several moments, she heard him sigh.

"Jackie, I don't need you to do this."

Her lower lip trembled, "I want to, Eric." But even to her ears, she heard the lack of conviction in her voice.

He shook his head firmly. "No, you don't. At least, not yet."

Her voice dropped so low he had to strain to hear her. "I know men have _needs,_ and I know that you've not been with anyone since me in Africa, and me too," she rushed to assure him, "it's just been you for me since we started this."

"I know, Jackie," she heard him say. "I didn't stay in touch with you but I knew all about you - my mom," he said by way of explanation.

"Okay. Yes, so the thing is, I know you've been without _it_ for seven months, almost eight now, and I'm just... God I feel like a tease!" she whispered.

"Jackie..." he said and he kissed her forehead as she lifted her face to look at him. "There's no way you're a tease, you're not that kind of girl," he said matter-of-factly. "And I really think I've got more self-control than that. I'm not the kind of guy that will lose his head if he's been without a woman for a few months," he said dryly.

He took a second to think about what he said and then amended, "Well, maybe _now_ I've got more self-control."

She burst out into giggles, remembering how she used to call him 'horny nerd boy', and he let out a low chuckle too.

Their laughter subsided after some time and they sat in companionable silence for a while until she felt his fingers stray to the the delicate straps of her camisole. She sucked in a breath as he pulled the strap down her shoulder and palmed the warm flesh of her breast with a devilish grin.

"Doesn't mean we can't go to second-base though," he said as his mouth swooped down and covered hers in a searing kiss.


	63. Chapter 63

"Check on the car. Make sure it's good for the drive to Chicago, you hear?"

"Dad, please. It's Jackie you wanna be talking to, not me." Eric raised his hands up before him. "Some things, I still won't get, no matter how many years I spend in the wilderness."

Red snorted. "Right, well, get her to look it over before you take it out then."

"Yes, sir," Eric replied with a rare grin.

They piled into the Vista Cruiser early Friday evening for the two hour drive to Kelso and Brooke's for the long weekend. Jackie had pronounced the car good to go, as per Eric's request for a full check; being stranded halfway on the highway to Chicago was not his idea of fun.

Hyde called shotgun, so Donna, Fez and Jackie were stuck in the back together. The drive was relatively uneventful and they were in high spirits from simply being together again.

They arrived at Kelso and Brooke's just before dinner, and Kelso threw open the door to his and Brooke's apartment, welcoming them with open arms and a huge goofy grin on his face.

"Welcome! Welcome!" he shouted effusively and went around hugging them all individually. He came to Eric and gave him a particularly huge hug, and even wiped away a tear or two, proclaiming that he had missed his skinny buddy so very much.

Brooke was demure and elegant as usual, welcoming them in her own quiet and genuine way. She apologized for the lack of rooms, and showed them where they could all camp out on the living room floor.

They settled in, with Kelso rushing them to get ready for dinner "'cos he was freakin' starving" and there was this "awesome place he wanted to take them". And so within an hour they were all dressed and back out again, heading to dinner.

The cold and blustery night was a beautiful one, even if the stars above couldn't be seen — the brilliant lights of busy Chicago had caused them all to fade in the inky sky. One lone star peeked out.

 _The North Star probably,_ Jackie thought, seeing it shining brightly slightly to the left of the fullness of the moon. The wind blew, and Jackie shivered.

She looked beautiful tonight, her hair up in a low chignon and in a navy blue sheath that clung to her every curve. In true Jackie fashion, she had foregone a sensible coat, opting instead for a pearl grey bolero that she felt would do her outfit more justice, and was thus quivering and trying her best to hide it, in sub-zero temperatures at they walked down the street looking for the restaurant that Kelso had said was all the rage.

They were walking several paces behind the group, enjoying the quiet of the night and the joyous atmosphere. The shops still bore decorations from Christmas a week ago and were brightly lit and very merry.

Jackie had found herself trailing behind the boisterous group earlier, craving the quiet that she had grown to love in Africa and which she had grown used to, and it had followed her back to the States where she had lived by herself in her lonely mansion. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Eric had shortened his strides to match hers and from time to time, the laughter of their friends would float back over to them.

The wind blew again, cold and biting, and Jackie shivered some more. Eric glanced over and switched places with her, blocking off most of the wind. Without a word, he shrugged off his coat and put it over her shoulders. Warmth engulfed her and her teeth stopped their slight chattering. She clutched his coat around her gratefully and breathed in his scent. _Wood and spice and earth_. She could almost imagine them sitting outside their hut in Africa. She looked up at the sky. _If only it would rain._

They continued walking and he stepped closer to her. Their shoulders touched and the back of his hand grazed hers. She itched to lace her fingers with his and was startled when he reached around and did just so. He raised it to his lips, and just like he did once in Africa, placed a tender and lingering kiss on the inside of her wrist.

She smiled in pleasure, and then it faded into a jittery sort of unease. Her eyes flicked over to the group in front of them and she snatched her hand back when she saw Fez turn his head around to look at them. He appeared confused at seeing them together, tilting his head to the side and frowning a little, but Kelso chose that moment to point something out to him, and he forgot about them in that instant.

She felt Eric stiffen next to her, and was too chicken to meet his eyes. She lowered her head and carefully folded her arms under his coat, and started counting the cracks along the pavement instead.

The wind picked up again, and some strands came loose from her updo and got caught in the gloss on her lips. She brushed it aside absently, and it left a shiny trail on her cheek.

Eric stopped her and his hand came up without a thought to cup her jaw, and he rubbed away the thin streak of gloss on her cheek with his thumb.

Her eyes involuntarily shifted forward again to see if any of their friends noticed.

A muscle twitched in his jaw.

"Quit it," he said tersely.

She nodded her head jerkily, and obeyed, forcing herself to relax as he continued with his ministrations. When he was satisfied and finally released her jaw, he tucked the loose strands behind her ear and slid his hand down to grasp hers again. She opened her mouth to protest, but snapped it shut when she saw the hard glint in his eye.

"Jackie, I really don't give a shit if anyone finds out about us."

His voice was hard and unyielding, but his touch was gentle when he lifted her chin to look into her eyes. They bored into hers.

She nodded her understanding. "Okay," she whispered, "I'll stop. I promise."

He leaned down and brushed her lips lightly with his. This time she manfully willed herself to relax, to enjoy the sweetness of his kiss, and not to look up to see if their friends had noticed.

"Thank you," he said.

Before long, Kelso gave a shout and pushed open the door to a cozy looking restaurant with its name carved into an ornate wooden signboard above it. Jackie and Eric followed the main group into the place, welcoming the rush of warmth that enveloped them.

They sat themselves around a large oval table and in honor of the occasion, ordered a staggering amount of food as well as several bottles of wine. The mood was festive and laughter flowed as easily as the wine, and Eric found himself relaxing more than he was used to. He glanced over at Jackie again, as he had been doing all evening, content to see the sparkle in her eyes and smile.

His thoughts drifted to their future, as it had been doing ever since he came back. It had cemented his feelings about her and to think about a future without her in it was so crushing that his breath left him for a moment.

He was brought back to the conversation going around the table when he heard Kelso exclaim.

"So, like, Jackie went to _Africa?"_

Kelso looked incredulous and swivelled his head to look between Jackie and Eric. "Seriously?"

Eric spared Kelso a patient smile while Jackie thought it best to just ignore him. But he wouldn't leave it alone.

"But, Gawd this is like so weird! Don't you hate each other or something?"

"Nope, apparently they're friends now," Donna interjected snidely.

Kelso frowned, as if finding the concept so hard to grasp it was giving him a headache. " _How?"_

Donna shrugged and took a swig of wine. This was a touchy topic for her.

"Y'know," Kelso said in his big dumb way, "the only time when two people stop hating each other is when they start sleeping together." He brightened. "Kinda like me and Laurie!"

The sudden silence was so thick it could be felt.

Kelso didn't seem to notice, garbling on about sexual chemistry and how opposites attract, "Like me and Brooke!"

Jackie had frozen in her seat, stunned by the randomness and accuracy of what Kelso (of all people) had observed. She prayed that no one had latched onto it, but with a sinking feeling realized that everyone at the table except Kelso (figures) were staring at both Eric and her.

She tried not to, afraid that by even looking at Eric, everyone would guess the truth on her face, but her eyes seem to have a will on its own and she found herself drawn to him and hoping he would deny the truth of the allegations.

Unlike Jackie, Eric however, didn't seem fazed. He knew her doe-eyes were pleading with him. He also knew that if he looked at her, he'll be somewhat inclined to give in.

So he didn't.

He was sick of the charade that he and Jackie were keeping up. If his friends couldn't accept them being together then so be it. To hell with them. It was their problem. He opened his mouth to answer.

"Y—,"

There was a sharp pain from his shin as Jackie swiftly kicked him under the table. He narrowed his eyes at her and she avoided his gaze, forcing out a shrill laugh.

"Me and Eric? Oh please. As if that can ever—"

He ignored her and looked back at the group. "As a matter of fact—" he started.

"Waiter! Waiter!" Jackie half-screamed, waving her arm frantically in the air to try and distract everyone from what Eric was going to say.

It didn't work. Everyone was hooked on to his every word. In that second, Jackie took in the scared, almost despairing look on Donna's face; she saw the way Steven's hands were clenched and his breathing quicken, and she knew that she couldn't let Eric do it. She couldn't do it to their friends, not now to Donna and not when Steven was already at such a low point in his life.

So she interrupted Eric with a tinkling laugh directed at the group.

"Yes, it was the funniest thing. Funny, funny really, that you would say that! You see, Eric and I er, we um, _almost_ kissed!" The stress she placed on the 'almost' was so heavy it was comical, seeing that they had done far more than 'almost kiss'.

Eric nearly snorted.

"It was my first night there and I had a bit too much to drink and l..." She spun a tale of a blossoming friendship that was ludicrous to Eric's ears, all the while shooting him pleading looks and desperately hoping that he would understand and promised that she would make it up to him a thousand times over. _Not yet_ , _Eric._ Her eyes implored him. _Soon, but not yet._

Eric sat still as everyone around him laughed at the fantastic whopper of a tale that he was hearing for the first time in his life. He was tired of this. Tired of having to pander to everyone else's feelings. Tired of hiding his. Tired of pretending. Tired of sneaking around. Tired. Just tired.

Jackie noted the tense set of his shoulders. She knew she had hurt him. Again. And badly this time. He didn't react, and Eric may be all steel on the outside now, but his emotions had always run deep. When she ended her story, he got up, stone-faced, and threw a couple of bills on the table. Then turned around and left them all without a backward glance.

She fought the intense urge to go after him. Six pairs of eyes stared after him as he shrugged on his coat and walked out the door. Jackie wrestled between her loyalty to her friends and her feelings for him, but before she could come to a decision, Donna shoved her chair back and gave them all a slightly tipsy smile. "I'm just gonna go check on him."

This time, only Jackie's eyes followed her figure to the door, the turmoil inside her rising to a crescendo as she literally had to fight to maintain her composure. She supposed she should be thankful that everyone had had enough to drink that they didn't seem to be overly suspicious about Eric's sudden departure, but all she felt was guilt and the sick sense you get when you know you've done something very wrong. And now Donna had gone after him. Add jealousy to the sickening swirl pooling in her stomach and she felt like throwing up.

She made to get up and go after the both of them when Donna came right back in through the doors.

"He said he was gonna head on back first and told me to come back in," Donna said by way of explanation, but no one seem to notice what she said. She sat back down and reached for her glass, tossing back the rest of her drink.

Jackie's mood took a nosedive after Eric's departure. The night that had seemed so magical before now turned to ashes around her. She laughed perfunctorily and replied mechanically when talked to, but her mind was on Eric and she couldn't concentrate on anything around her. Finally, when she could take it no more, she nudged Kelso and told him that she was tired and would be heading back too. She was hoping to get a few minutes alone with Eric to explain herself, but that was shot down when Brooke gave a yawn and everyone else decided to call it a night as well.

* * *

Eric was not in the apartment when they all got back. He was still not in an hour later when everyone else had bedded down and were in varying stages of sleep.

The clock ticked by and Jackie lay wide awake from her spot on the floor. Her fingers were numb from twisting themselves into knots and she hadn't spoken a word since the gang had gotten back to the apartment, alternating between hating herself for hurting him and praying that he wasn't lying hurt in a ditch somewhere.

Had she not been listening so attentively for him, she would have missed the nearly soundless click of the front door and the quiet tread of his footsteps as he entered the apartment and disappeared somewhere.

She got up after a lengthy internal battle and went in search of him.

Pushing open the door to the open balcony, she saw him leaning with his forearms over the railing, the faint scent of cigarette smoke still lingering in the air. His dark hair was tousled and wind-blown, but he looked unaffected by the biting cold. Her heart turned over and she ached to hold him. She knew that he knew that she was there, but he kept his gaze on the apartment building across and didn't turn towards her.

She fought back a tremble, and took another step towards him.

She saw his shoulders lift and fall slightly as he blew out a large breath and finally acknowledged her.

"What, Jackie." His voice was low and void of emotion.

She didn't say anything but reached for his hand, pulling it free from where they were clasped in front of him. He allowed her to pull him back into the warmth of the apartment and made no protest as she led him into the laundry room and closed the door.

Moonlight streamed in from the double ventilation windows near the ceiling, casting the small space in pale light. Jackie turned to face him, holding her hand out but he didn't take it. He stood in the shadows near the door, unwilling to move further into the room.

She deserved it, she knew. She deserved that and more. She stared at the sharp planes of his face in the darkness; loving every feature, cherishing every line. Biting her lip, she reached up and took the pins out of her hair, shaking it loose and letting it fall in a heavy curtain down her back, just the way she knew he liked it.

He remained impassive.

She unzipped the dark blue sheath that she had worn that evening and let it fall to the floor. Then with trembling fingers peeled off the silk of her bra and panties. She stood naked and vulnerable before him and hesitantly took a step forward, and then another, to slide her hands up his arms. She felt his muscles bunch and she continued a path across the strong width of his chest, then laced her arms around his neck. She tugged his head gently forward, but he stood as stiff as a board, refusing to give her an inch. Without her heels on, she came up to just above the line of his shoulders and she rose on tip toe to press a row of sensual kisses into the line of his jaw.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she whispered. She pressed herself into him, needing this, needing him.

Only him.

He had never been able to resist her, and having been deprived of her for so long, he was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. With a defeated growl, he bent his head and captured her lips in a kiss that set her senses aflame. He slid his callused hands down her naked body and reached to cup her behind, before picking her up and hauling her flush against him. She rejoiced as she slid her legs under his jacket and wrapped them around his waist, and deepened the kiss to explore the dark confines of his mouth. She tasted the cigarette he had smoked earlier and something else that was pure him.

She wished that things were uncomplicated. That Donna and Steven would understand. That Eric would know that he meant so, so much to her. That she thought she would die when the time came for him to leave. Because she knew he would, because Africa was where Eric belonged to now. She had glimpsed the restlessness in his eyes, the craving for a vastness unfettered by four walls.

And when he did leave, Donna and Steven and Fez were all that she would be left with.

Because she had no one else.

But what existed was now, and now she desperately wanted to give Eric everything, to give all of her to him. She needed him to know. She needed him to know just how much he meant to her.

He carried her over to the washer and she sucked in a breath as the cold metal met the backs of her bare thighs. She soon forgot about it though, as he ran roughened palms over her most sensitive areas, and had her panting and desperate to touch him in return. She clawed at the buttons of his shirt, and he chuckled softly as she succeeded in ripping one off in her haste to feel his skin against hers. He lowered his head to take a breast in his mouth and she squeezed her thighs tightly around the hard planes of his stomach to fight against the swirl of sensations that he was eliciting with his tongue.

"Eric," she whimpered.

"Take it easy, I've got you." He felt the wetness of her on his skin, and his hand slid down her belly and between her thighs to rub a thumb against her. She came immediately, and he relished the feel of her pulsating under his hand and against his navel.

Unbuckling his pants, he let them fall as he straightened and entered her in one swift thrust. She gave a sharp cry at his sudden entry, and clutched at his forearms, wriggling slightly to accommodate him. He clenched his teeth against the wave of pleasure he felt at her movements, giving her time to adjust, then thanked the skies as she gave him a breathless nod and dug her heels into his buttocks to take him deeper within her.

And so he moved, slowly at first, then harder and faster until the washer beneath her was hitting the wall in an echo of his rhythm. She flattened her palms against the ridges of his washboard body and tightened her thighs around him as he reached under her to grasp her hips and pull them up hard towards him.

"Jackie, I'm gonna come." His voice was strained and he made to pull out but she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist. Surprise flared in his eyes as he gritted his teeth with the effort of holding himself back. "You on the pill?" he ground out.

She clung on to his shoulders and shook her head 'no', looking up at him with her heart in her eyes. She wanted to experience this with him, she wanted to feel _all_ of him. "You won't get me pregnant this time of the month," she breathed out instead and bucked her hips towards him.

He groaned audibly and she felt him shake with strain. He started to protest again but stopped as he locked eyes with her. Hers were wild with need. For him.

She clenched her walls about him and all thoughts flew out of his head. A huge, selfish part of him really didn't care if he got her pregnant. He would marry her in a flash. Hell, he _wanted_ her to be the mother of his children.

"Eric," she pleaded and shifted again, trying to draw him deeper into her, "please, baby, I need you."

He lost his inner battle and pulled back, before slamming hard into her. She whimpered with pleasure and he felt her nails dig into his back, panting in time to his thrusts.

She gasped as he slammed into her again, trying to mark her in the most primitive of ways. She met him thrust for thrust as he took them both to heaven before she collapsed, crying out his name. He covered her mouth with his and shuddered his release deep within her.

Their breaths mingled in the aftermath of their lovemaking and they remained that way for a long time before Eric finally pulled out of her. The moment he did, she wanted him back. He pulled up his pants and bent down next to where she was still lying spent. Unable to resist the lure of her silky skin in the moonlight, he cupped her breast and trailed his hand down her thigh. She looked at him with half-closed eyes, a sensual smile playing at her lips.

He leaned forward to kiss her, then closed his eyes and let his lips follow the path his hand took down her body, breathing in the smell of her skin. He pressed another kiss into the dark curls between her legs and felt around on the floor for her discarded panties. He shrugged out of his jacket, placing it around her shoulders and handed her panties to her. Leaning back against the cold wall, he watched as she put them back on.

"I love you, Jackie."

Her heart leaped, and for a moment her lips formed around words that her heart echoed. And then the moment passed. She swallowed.

"I know, Eric," she said softly instead.

He accepted her response stoically, although his insides were being torn to shreds.

A child started crying somewhere inside the house.

"Sounds like Betsy's up," Jackie said, sliding her arms through the sleeves of his jacket and tried to get the zip into the catch. Her hands were still unsteady from what they had just experienced together and he brushed them aside as he pushed off from the wall to fit it in and zip it up for her.

The door slid open suddenly and Brooke walked sleepily in.

She stopped abruptly as she looked at their clasped hands and frozen expressions. She took in the post-coital flush on Jackie's cheeks and her dress on the floor and murmured a soft, "Ah."

Jackie sprang to her feet as Eric pushed a hand through his hair.

"Brooke! It's not—"

Brooke lifted a hand to wave off her explanation. There was a small smile playing on her lips when she said, "So that's how the wind blows. I was wondering at all the tension between you two earlier."

"It's complicated, Brooke. With Steven and Donna and... everything."

Brooke nodded. "I won't say a word." She grabbed the plush toy she had come for and turned to leave but looked back at them over her shoulder. "For the record," she said hesitatingly, "I think you two make the most sense as a couple. I mean, Hyde and Donna both wanted different things from you. But you guys… You'll make it work. Michael and I did." She smiled again encouragingly and disappeared through the doorway.

They watched the door close behind her with different expressions on their faces.

Eric spoke first, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. "Is it really complicated Jackie? Because I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

She glimpsed a flash of bitterness as it flickered across his face and truly _hated_ herself for causing him so much pain.

"It's just. It's too—"

"Complicated," he finished woodenly for her.

She nodded, and her hair shimmered in the dim light. She looked at him pleadingly and he cursed himself for being a fool for her. Staring up at the ceiling briefly, he ignored the wrench in his gut, reaching out instead to lay a finger against her cheek. He brought it down to trace the full outline of her lips and bent to brush them with his in a tender kiss.

Then he bowed down and picked up her bra and her dress, depositing them next to her on the washer, before leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind him.


	64. Chapter 64

"Good morning, everyone!" Brooke sang out as she brought in a tray of coffee for all of them early the next morning.

They were sprawled all over her living room, snuggled tight in sleeping bags.

"Yeah, Happy New Year!" Kelso echoed loudly and kicked Fez to wake him up. "To you," he yodeled and aimed a kick at Hyde. "And you," a gentler kick aimed at Donna's rear end. "And you!" _Kick kick._ He directed the last two to the edge of Jackie's sleeping bag, more afraid of her than the other three.

"Aaaand. Hey!" He stomped around on Eric's empty sleeping bag. "Where did Eric go?" He twisted Brooke's wrist around to peer at her watch. "8:05," he read, and frowned. "Weird."

They were all still rubbing sleep from their eyes when the doorknob turned and the front door swung open as Eric walked in, breathing heavily and sweaty from his run.

They all turned as one to look at him.

He paused as he saw them staring.

"What?" he grunted, then rolled his eyes and dismissed the lot of them. He pulled off his socks and disappeared into the kitchen for the washer, unzipping his hoodie along the way.

Hyde's eyebrows shot up. " _Forman_ runs?" He looked at Donna, expecting some form of shared incredulity, but Donna was staring after Eric. She nodded back at him distractedly.

Jackie sat up. She really didn't like the look Donna was giving Eric.

 _Please Eric, stay in the freakin' kitchen and keep your damn shirt on_.

Jackie hurriedly rummaged into his overnight bag for a clean shirt for him before he came out and headed for the shower on the other side of the living room.

No such luck.

This gang had always been a bit too comfortable with each other, and Eric stalked out and towards the bathroom bare-chested and in his boxers, with a towel across his back and shoulders.

Jackie scrambled for his shirt and threw it at him. It landed over his head.

"What the hell?" He pulled it off his face. "Jackie?"

"Eric!" she squeaked at him, outraged. "Clothes? Jeez."

He shot her a look that suggested that she might be insane, and strode to the bathroom.

"Huh," said Hyde, and he scratched his chest and yawned. "Peter Parker went to Africa and became _Spider-Man_."

Brooke glanced at Jackie and mouthed a silent "Wow."

Kelso lifted up his shirt and looked at his own stomach.

Fez pouted. "So Eric has glorious muscles now. Big. Deal," he grumbled. "You don't have to eat him with your eyes," he said with a petulant look at Donna. " _I_ have glorious muscles too, why do you people never look at me like that?"

"Uh-blah," mumbled Donna, slack-jawed and dazed.

Jackie gritted her teeth and glared at them all.

* * *

Brooke offered to whip up some breakfast, which was met with hearty approval from her guests, and roped in Jackie and Donna to help get it out.

It had been awhile since Jackie had made breakfast of any sort, and she soon found a happy rhythm with the pancakes she had volunteered to prepare. Though Donna had been skeptical at first, it became clear that Jackie did really know what she was doing, so Donna stopped hovering two inches away from her convinced that they were all going to be poisoned.

"Something else you picked up in Africa, huh?" Brooke smiled as she walked past Jackie to join Donna at the table where she was juicing oranges with Betsy seated in a high chair next to her. "Here, you cut, I'll squeeze."

The conversation soon turned to Randy, when Brooke mentioned that she was sorry that he wasn't able to make it to Chicago.

Donna shrugged. "S'okay, we could use the time apart actually."

Brooke quirked an eyebrow in her direction. "Oh?"

Donna heaved a sigh. "Complicated," she muttered.

Brooke shot a look over to where Jackie was fiddling with the stove. "Complicated," she echoed. "Hmmm. Been hearing that word a lot lately."

Donna didn't seem to hear her, preoccupied with something else behind Brooke instead.

Following her line of sight, Brooke's surprised gaze landed on Eric. She drew a breath and glanced quickly over at Jackie. Complicated indeed.

"So... Eric?" she prompted hesitatingly.

Donna sighed again. "First loves, I guess. It was easier when he was away, but now that he's back. And he looks like, like _that..._ "

"Ah," she said. She thought back to what she found out by accident last night and recalled the way Eric and Jackie had looked at each other.

"You know, sometimes, first loves are just that. _First_ loves." She took two orange halves from the small pile next to Donna. "They're not supposed to be your last. I know it's none of my business, but it's just that it's a mistake that I've made before."

Donna looked away from Eric to meet her eyes. "I think we could really make it work now." Her gaze shifted back to Eric. "I've got to at least _try_ ," she said determinedly.

Brooke looked over to where the guys were gathered in the living room. She could see why Donna was so adamant that she wanted Eric back. And especially with the history that they shared...

But she was also convinced that Donna's reasons were the wrong ones and she was infatuated with the _idea_ of Eric rather than Eric himself.

"And you think Eric feels the same way?" she ventured.

Donna shook her head slightly and her blonde hair rustled around her shoulders. "I don't know. I think so. I think he's the same Eric beneath all that new… African-ness… the one that's giving and selfless. And I think— no I _know—_ that once he knows that I've changed too, that I'm ready for this, for _him_ , we could both start over and try again."

The look in her eyes turned faraway. "He left to better himself. For _me_. For us. And now that he's back, and he's actually done it..." Donna turned to Brooke, "Don't you see?"

There was a chorus of laughter from the guys and they both looked over again.

But what Brooke could see was not what Donna saw. Eric was sitting before the bar by the side of the living room, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. His arms were similarly crossed and he had pushed the sleeves of a baseball shirt further up his forearms. His hair was tousled like he hadn't bothered with it after his shower, but it somehow lent him a rugged appeal, more so with his bronzed coloring and that air of reserve that he had brought back with him from Africa. He was quietly observing the card game going on between Kelso, Fez and Hyde who were seated around the living room table.

It was clear that he was worlds ahead of the rest of the three, not only in terms of experience, but probably in mentality as well. Brooke could understand the appeal, and seeing as to how Donna had once loved the skinny boy that he was, the man would surely be irresistible to her. Brooke also recognized that this was an idealized version of Eric. An ideal that Donna had nurtured and increasingly romanticized, and in no way could see that he had long since left her behind.

Before she could reply though, Donna let out a cry and Brooke looked over to see that she had carelessly sliced her palm open.

"Oh crap!" Brooke exclaimed, and spun around to rush for a first aid kit. She banged bodily into a broad chest and looked up into Eric's sea-green gaze.

"Careful," he said, steadying her and reaching around to place the knife that Donna dropped far out of Betsy's reach.

Brooke gave him a grateful glance and hurried away for the kit.

"Here, let me take a look," Eric turned to Donna and reached for her injured hand. "How'd it happen?"

"Uh," she swallowed, "Dunno. Wasn't paying attention, I guess."

He grabbed a couple of paper towels and pressed them into the wound. Donna winced and he grimaced. "Sorry, I've got to stop the bleeding."

He turned slightly as Jackie approached from Donna's other side to take Betsy. But other than a quick glance at her and the child, he didn't acknowledge her further.

Feeling a sharp pang, Jackie bit her lip and turned away, burying her nose in Betsy's fragrant chestnut curls.

Brooke returned with the kit to find that Eric had stopped the bleeding and washed out the wound. He opened the box and rummaged around for antiseptics before wrapping Donna's hand up.

"It doesn't look bad, but I would avoid doing anything with that hand for the next couple of hours at least."

Donna looked up at him and smiled. "Thanks," she murmured.

Eric shrugged. "It's nothing," he said easily. "I've definitely seen worse." He got up and headed to the sink to wash his hands. "Don't forget, I work with a school full of children."

It was the first time he had mentioned Africa to her and Donna found herself desperately hungry for more. She thought about how funny it was that she had never actually asked him about it in their previous conversations before.

She opened her mouth to call after him, but the moment had passed and he returned to the living room where the rest of the guys were.

* * *

Brooke called for breakfast soon later. Despite Donna's little accident, it looked set to be a warm and hearty affair.

They were all seated around the living room table, ladling scrambled eggs and bacon and sausages on to their plates and play-fighting as a mad scramble ensued when Jackie emerged with a tall stack of pancakes and Brooke set down a jar of maple syrup before them.

Eric looked relaxed, but Jackie had learnt to read him better than most, and she knew that he wasn't as he appeared. She had returned to the living room the night before intent on clearing the air between them, but his spot in the mass of sleeping bodies in the room was glaringly empty. She didn't hear him leave, and she didn't know where he had gone, but not wanting to wake every one else up, she had gotten into her bag and stared at the ceiling till her eyelids grew heavy and sleep took her. She wondered where he went, and if he had gotten any sleep at all.

Then morning dawned and since then he had barely spoken more than two words to her. She had caught him looking at her just once earlier when she had been playing with Betsy. It was a rare moment when his eyes were unguarded but barely a second later, the shutters that he had so readily in place snapped down, but not before she glimpsed a loneliness there that tugged at her heart.

She started to take the empty seat to his right but Donna beat her to it, sliding in easily next to him as if it was a place that he had saved just for her; and the seeming rightness of her action, the _naturalness_ of it, struck Jackie and a bitter taste filled her mouth.

She quietly moved to take the only other seat available at the end of the table furthest from Eric and Donna, and try as she might, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the both of them side by side, looking to all the world as if they still belonged together.

She forced herself to chew and swallow, smile and laugh, but couldn't stop her gut from wrenching as she saw Donna reach over and eat something from Eric's plate just like she used to when they were together. What made it worse was that Eric barely seemed to notice the gesture, giving her a casual smile and continuing to spoon forkfuls of his eggs into his mouth. Conversation flowed around her, and every bite tasted more and more like ash in her mouth and suddenly, It became too much for her. She stood up noiselessly and discreetly left for the kitchen.

Putting her dirty plate in the sink she picked up the soap mechanically and started washing. Her mind flicked back to the times that she and Eric would do the dishes together, and a small smile played at her lips.

"I never thought I'd see the day when you'd look happy doing the damn dishes."

She started, and looked up to see Hyde holding his plate and looking at her bemusedly.

"Oh. I was... uh, thinking of something that made me happy." She reached across to take his plate from him.

He looked even more dumbfounded when she did that, that she couldn't help but laugh.

He stared at her, dazzled for a moment. He had forgotten how much he had loved to see her laugh. Maybe it was because of the heart-warming familiarity of all of them together under one roof again; or the joviality of the holidays; or being away from the hot mess that was his life at the moment, and he found himself unable to recall why he ever hated her with a passion that consumed his very being.

"You're beautiful," he found himself saying.

Memories of prom; of her in a wedding dress; flashed through both their minds.

Jackie recalled the memory fondly, and her features softened. "Thank you," she said with a sweet smile.

He stared at her for a while longer before turning around abruptly and heading back out. She watched him go, feeling a relief of some sort, and a deep feeling for this man that she had once loved with all her young heart.

Brooke came in with more plates after he left, shooing her away and made to take over the dishes, but Jackie shushed her and they compromised on Jackie drying and Brooke washing. She had pulled herself up on the counter next to Brooke at the sink with a dish rag in hand when Donna walked in with Eric two steps behind her.

The room suddenly felt very small.

Donna was in high spirits and had a smile on her face from something that Eric had said to her and Jackie was finding it hard to keep her expression neutral. She gave up and hopped off the counter instead, in a bid to turn her back to them.

There was a wetness, an intimate sensation and Jackie's brows furrowed as she felt something warm and sticky leak out from inside her core and trickle down her inner thigh.

And then she realized.

 _Eric._

From where he had been last night deep inside her.

Her breath caught. She instinctively found herself looking at him over Donna's shoulder and her pulse quickened when her eyes collided with his startling green gaze. Her mind flew to the night before and she grew hot as a blush stole its way across her cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow slightly but didn't speak to her otherwise. He brushed against her as he tried to make room for Donna to walk past, and Jackie was mortified at the thoughts that flew through her mind. She hastily squashed a particularly visual one that had her pressing herself up against him and begging him to shove his hand up her skirt.

Eric dropped the stack of plates he was carrying in the sink, and offered to take over the washing from Brooke. Brooke firmly turned him down and shooed him out to hang out with the rest of the gang. "I've got Jackie here helping me. We'll be fine," she smiled.

Eric flashed a brief look in Jackie's direction and nodded to Brooke. "Alright. Thanks for the breakfast you two."

"And me too!" Donna called from a few feet behind him and received an amused half-smile in return.

Jackie stared after him as he turned to follow Donna out of the kitchen. Before she knew what she was doing, she had caught up with him and snagged his wrist.

"Wait," she said.

He stopped but didn't exactly turn around to meet her eyes. She saw him heave a sigh.

"What is it, Jackie?"

She tugged on his wrist to pull him back into the kitchen, and to her relief, he allowed her to do so. When she let go of him, he leaned against one of the kitchen counters and folded his arms, fixing his gaze somewhere above her head at the wall opposite.

She reached up and placed one hand on his forearm and the other to touch the side of his jaw. "Eric, please."

He sighed.

After a while, where she was left nervous and unsure and on her toes, he finally lowered his eyes to meet hers. He searched them for a long moment, then unfolded his arms and she immediately stepped into his embrace.

Relieved, Jackie buried her nose in his neck and inhaled. Her arms snaked around his waist. "I'm really sorry."

He rested the side of his jaw against her temple. "I know," he said.

"But we can't keep hiding this, Jackie," he continued in a low voice. "They have a right to know."

She nodded her head and he felt the movement against his neck. And then a gentle kiss as she pressed her lips to the jagged scar on the underside of his chin.

"Aren't you afraid one of them is gonna walk in on us?" he asked her seriously.

She shook her head sharply in answer. "Right now I don't care. I just… I want to be with you."

He felt her body shake slightly and her arms tighten around his waist. "Please forgive me," she whispered.

"There's nothing to forgive, angel-face."

She smiled at the endearment. "So we're okay?"

He nodded. Then pulled her gently back so that he could look in her eyes. His own were grave and sombre as he asked, "Last night... Did you have sex with me because you felt guilty?"

"No!" Jackie cried, stunned. Her hair flew around her shoulders with each vehement shake of her head. "No," she repeated, and held his face between the palm of her hands. "I did it because I wanted it. I wanted _you_. I wanted to belong to you."

He looked unconvinced, and she looked deep into his eyes. "I-I really need you to believe me."

His eyes probed hers and when he nodded she felt like she could breathe again. She gave him a tremulous smile and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. "It's real for me too, Eric."

"Even though we're still keeping it a secret?"

Jackie tilted her head at Brooke, who was at the other end of the kitchen, out of earshot and tactfully minding her own business. "It's not _really_ a secret. Brooke knows."

Eric gave her a flinty look.

She dropped her chin and heaved a weary sigh. "I'm tired of hiding too, Eric." She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, thinking things through, and came to a resolute decision.

"We'll tell them after we get back to Point Place. Sit them down and tell them. I promise."


	65. Chapter 65

"There was something in the air that nightttt... The stars so brightttt!" warbled Donna as she stumbled her way back to Kelso's apartment, one arm around Hyde's shoulders for support.

Fez was half-drunk and walking up ahead with Jackie who had Betsy sleeping on her shoulder. And following behind was a semi-conscious Kelso whose weight was being supported between Eric and an exasperated-looking Brooke.

"Fernando!" Donna shouted.

Jackie winced as Betsy started in her arms. Thankfully though, she didn't wake.

They arrived at the apartment block and Fez sank against the rails lining the steps. His face had taken on a green tinge.

"Jackie, catch!" Brooke called, and tossed Jackie the keys to the apartment.

Before Jackie could fumble with the doors to the building though, Fez grabbed them out of her hand and bolted down the hallway and up the stairs with one hand over his mouth.

She turned to see if the others needed help, but Brooke waved her on. She and and Eric manoeuvred Kelso around Hyde and Donna, who didn't seem to want the night to end just yet.

"...You and me! For libertyyy!"

Hyde sighed. "Carry on. I got her," he muttered.

Eric nodded and half-dragged Kelso through. He and Brooke exchanged a look as they stared at the flight of stairs leading up to the apartment.

He heaved Kelso's arm a little higher on his shoulder, shifting more of his weight on him and off Brooke. "Kelso, man, you gotta help us out a little alright?" he said.

Kelso opened an eye and grunted.

They managed to get him up the stairs with some of his help, though Brooke's face was red and she was breathing heavily when they entered the apartment.

Jackie had turned on the heat and was just exiting Betsy's room when they deposited Kelso on the couch in the living room.

"She didn't wake?" Brooke asked Jackie as she closed Betsy's door quietly.

"Just a little. But I tucked her in and turned on the night light and she dropped straight back to sleep."

Brooke sighed in relief. "Thanks, you're a lifesaver."

Jackie smiled. "Anytime." She nodded towards Kelso who had rolled onto the floor despite Eric's best efforts. "What're you gonna do with him?"

Brooke looked at him with her hands on her hips. "Dunno. But I'll figure something out." She turned to Eric, "I think you'd better go help Hyde with Donna."

"Yeah, I was going to," he replied and headed to the door. Jackie followed him.

They arrived downstairs to find Donna slumped over the front steps next to the sidewalk with her face on the concrete ground and Hyde leaning against the rail, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"What you just let her lie there?" Eric asked with a raised brow.

Hyde lifted a shoulder. "Yeah well, she wanted to. Wouldn't move."

"Jeeze man, she's drunk. Of course she can't move," he muttered. He bent down and slid a hand under Donna's cheek. It was as cold as ice from the stone of the ground. "She's freezing," he said to no one.

Jackie bent down to try and help but Hyde held her back. "Don't, Doll. Let Forman do it. Donna's mean when she's drunk," he said with a dark look at Donna's prone form.

Jackie rolled her eyes at him and bent down anyway.

Donna's arm came swinging upwards suddenly and nearly took her nose off with it. "Ooof," said Jackie as she fell on her butt, the air knocked out of her.

"Told ya," smirked Hyde as he reached down to help Jackie back to her feet. She stood and dusted at her outfit crossly.

"Careful," Hyde said sideways to Eric, all the while keeping a careful eye on Donna, "that girl of yours has got a mean swing."

"She's not Eric's girl," Jackie said irritably, frowning at Hyde. He didn't seem to notice, busy warding off Eric's attempts to get him to help with Donna.

Eric blew out a breath. "Fine," he muttered, and gently shook Donna's shoulder again. "Donna, come on, it's freezing out here, let's get you in."

"No," she mumbled petulantly. "I wanna stay out here. Underneath the starsssss..."

Jackie sighed testily and pushed past Hyde to crouch down next to Eric. "Donna, come on you big oaf," she huffed, lugging at one of her arms. "It's late and we—" _tug_ , "—need to—" _tug tug oof!_ "—get you inside so we can all get to _sleep!_ " She ended on a semi-shriek, frustrated as hell that Donna wouldn't budge.

"Fine," slurred Donna. "You both head in, Eric and I will stay out here under the stars." She beamed a drunken smile at Eric and clumsily rose and tried to put her head in his lap.

Irrational jealousy flared in Jackie's gut. More so when Eric didn't try to protest the action. Instead he had a small smile lurking at the corners of his lips as he looked down at Donna who had wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Okay, Donna. You're halfway there, let's get those legs moving shall we?" He hooked his hands under her arms and attempted to rise, but she made her body a dead weight and he lost his balance instead.

He sat back heavily on his haunches and this time he really did crack a smile, finding the situation absurdly funny. Donna took the opportunity to crawl onto his lap, purring like a kitten as she did so. "Mmmm," she hummed, pressing herself into him, "niceeee..." She borrowed her face into his neck.

Hyde snickered. "I think Big D's kinda horny." He blew out a puff of smoke and crossed his arms. He hadn't been so entertained in a long while.

Eric shook his head and tried to unwind her arms from their current spot around his neck. "Donna," he said exasperatedly.

Donna hummed again and Jackie let out an outraged gasp. "She is!" she exclaimed, turning wide eyes to Hyde. "You are!" she cried and leapt at Donna and tried to pry her away from Eric.

"Donna, stop it! Steven! Come take her away from Eric!"

Hyde blew out more smoke. "Why should I? This is more fun than I've had in years." He settled himself comfortably on the ground next to Eric. "Besides, I bet Forman hasn't been laid in ages, and I wouldn't be a good friend if I tried to prevent that from happenin'." He winked at Eric.

"Hyde, she's with Randy."

"Meh, semantics."

Eric shot him a disgruntled look. "Do you seriously think I'm the kind of asshole who'd take advantage of a drunk girl?"

"Ha! So you're thinkin' it!"

"No, I'm not. I'm tired and I'm trying to help a friend. Which is what _you_ should've done in the first place dammit."

"She shoved me in the ribs! And kicked me!" Hyde fixed a glare at Jackie and continued, "who'd you think taught her that particular move!"

Jackie glared back at him menacingly. She turned that same glare on to Eric who sighed and returned it with a "What do you want me to do" look.

Donna chose that moment to start pressing a line of kisses up his neck. Startled, Eric jerked, but Donna held on tight as her tongue darted out and she nibbled on his ear.

Jackie turned an unflattering shade of green. "Don't you dare," she hissed and yanked out a fistful of Donna's long blonde strands.

Donna yelped in pain and whirled around drunkenly, falling off Eric and rolling down four steps instead. "Ow!" she howled and real tears filled her eyes.

Jackie's hands flew to her mouth, instantly contrite. "Omigosh! Sorry! Sorry!"

Hyde doubled over, clutching his sides in laughter as Jackie ran to Donna's side.

Sighing, Eric stood up and walked towards the girls. He gave Donna a once over and decided she hadn't suffered any serious damage.

"Ready to head in now?" he asked her gently.

She nodded hazily. Then stretched her arms out to him. "Carry me?" she asked him in a wobbly voice.

Eric hung his head and heaved another sigh. He calculated the time he would save if he just did so.

"Fine," he muttered.

He bent and scooped her up effortlessly, giving Jackie a look as she started to protest. "I'm tired, babe," he said to her in an undertone.

Donna gave him a dreamy smile. "You've never called me that before," she sighed. "I like it." She shifted in his arms, testing the strength of them. "I like _this_. Mmmm."

She turned around to look at Jackie. "Hey, do you think you could give me an Eric a moment here?"

Jackie stared incredulously at Donna. Her eyes shifted to Eric's and even in the dim light of the street lamps she could pick out the green in them. He gazed back at her with the love and assurance that she had so come to expect from him.

 _Screw it_ , she thought. What could be worse than having to deny Eric? She turned to Donna and opened her mouth. "Actually, _no_. Eric and I are—"

"C'mon, Doll," called Hyde from the top step. "Let's give Forman and Donna some time alone."

" _No_ ," she insisted, and stepped closer to Eric, her arm already sliding itself around his waist. "He and I—"

Donna turned over in Eric's arms and vomited all over the sidewalk.

* * *

They packed the Vista Cruiser for the drive back to Point Place the next day, and chaos reigned supreme when Fez couldn't find his bag of munchies for the ride home. He threw a huge tantrum and accused all and sundry of stealing them, and for some reason, Kelso took immediate and grave offence at the accusation.

Donna, hungover and nauseous, spent the better half of the morning running to and from where they were loading the car and the bathroom of Kelso and Brooke's. She was snappy and irritable, too sick to pack her own bag, so Jackie volunteered to do the packing for her.

The argument between Kelso and Fez escalated, and soon, to defend his own honor, Hyde too found himself in the thick of it. Donna's head swam, and with the ever increasing racket between the three of them bludgeoning her ear drums, she declared dramatically that she wouldn't, and couldn't, make the trip back.

Exhausted from holding Donna's hair back over the toilet and trying to calm the three guys, Jackie soon gave up and left Brooke to cajole Donna and replace the cold towel she had on her face and went to sit by Eric. He was by the bar, in the living room, quietly ignoring the ruckus around him and she hopped on to the stool next to him.

"Fiddling with that again?" she asked him, as she saw him roll a crude wooden circle between his fingers. It was about half a centimetre thick and maybe two centimetres wide and made from a rich black wood.

"This? Yeah."

She laughed. "Definitely not a block of wood anymore."

He glanced at the ornament in his hand. "Morathi did say it was the key to happiness." He looked up and indicated the squabbling group. "Peace among chaos at least," he muttered.

Jackie reached over and took it from him, eyeing it skeptically. "Morathi is wise. But I doubt that smoothing it into a true circle will bring you any happiness." She squinted at it, and twirled it around the second knuckle of her middle finger.

He smiled as he watched her, then let out a breath, taking it back from her and fingering the circle gently. "But for now, it's gonna be this faceted hollow roundish thing until I scrape my fingers raw and whittle my knife blunt."

She giggled, charmed by his unusual show of despondency, and impulsively pressed a kiss to his cheek before hopping off the stool and tugging him along with her.

"C'mon," she muttered under her breath, "if we don't get them to haul ass we're never gonna get home at this rate."

* * *

They fought over trunk space, they fought over seat allocation, they fought over who got into the car first, they fought over who got to seat next to whom, and even Eric himself was surprised when Jackie called shot gun and insisted on seating herself right next to him.

She ignored the comments and the raised eyebrows, sliding a pair of oversized sunglasses over her eyes and stared straight out of the windshield while the rest of the gang argued over the remaining seats.

For some reason, Hyde chose to seat himself next to her, which didn't bother her so much and she simply scooted closer to Eric, till her thigh was flush against his.

In the backseat, Donna, nursing a giant headache and seated next to a semi-slumbering and equally hungover Fez, frowned. He hiccuped, and shifted his head which was pillowed on her lap and the stench of alcohol wafted upward. Donna fought the answering surge of nausea, her mood getting darker with each passing mile.

She saw Jackie's arm brush Eric's and a curl of dark hair make its home on his shoulder. When Jackie started to nod off and her head automatically tilted towards Eric, Donna had had enough.

She pushed her face between the both of them, the sudden motion causing her head to spin. She swallowed past the sick swirl of alcohol-induced nausea in her stomach. "How much farther?" she bleated out in false cheer.

Jackie jerked alert, and a yawn escaped her.

Eric frowned, and then spared Donna a quick glance, "You know how far," he said drily.

She tried a pout, but Eric was already looking back at the road.

She stared at him, fighting a deep attraction to him and an intense yearning for things between them to be as they were before he left for Africa. The entire trip to Chicago had only cemented one thing in her mind and that was that she wanted Eric back with all her heart.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** As some of you might know, most of this story was written a while back which was why I've been updating so quickly prior to this chapter. But I'm fast approaching that point where the story comes to a grinding halt (goddammit Inspiration, how _rude_ of you). Thankfully though, I've found my mojo again and am working towards bringing everything to a satisfying big bang fireworks kinda conclusion - rejoice! (despite the goodly amount of time I spent brooding and angsting over it, bleahhh).

Credit for this goes to all your lovely reviews. Some of you have left really thought-provoking ones and I appreciate them so much because it provided a lot of perspective and gave me a fresh direction to take this story and our favourite couple towards. I owe it all to you, so thank you for your interest, and your thoughts, and your critique, and on my part, I will continue to deliver, hopefully in the manner that you will all continue to love.

XO times a hundred to all of you. XD


	66. Chapter 66

"Why do you insist on wearing those?" Eric asked Jackie when she entered his room and unzipped one knee-high boot and pulled it off with a groan.

She raised an eyebrow at him from where she had plopped herself on his bed. "What? These?"

He nodded, eyeing the stiletto heels with a skeptical look on his face. "They don't look particularly comfortable."

She snorted, pulling off the other one and massaging the arches of her feet. "You wouldn't understand," she said, then stopped to consider, before giving his long frame a once-over. "Yep," she said decisively, "you wouldn't understand."

He chuckled, and resumed unpacking. "How's Fez doing?"

"He's dead to the world. I put a trash can next to his bed just in case he wakes up and hurls." She reached across and picked up the used clothes he had dumped on the bedcovers from their trip to Chicago and got up to throw them in the hamper.

"I'll stay here tonight? If that's okay with you."

Eric looked over his shoulder at her in surprise. "Are you sure? Fez is just in the next room."

She shrugged, walking over to him and leaning her cheek against his back. "We'll be telling them soon anyway, it doesn't matter who's the first to find out." Her arms twined round his body and she clasped her hands in front of his waist. "I wanna wake up next to you."

She missed the smile he had on his face at her words, but she didn't miss the intention in his eyes as he turned around and scooped her up, ignoring her indignant squeak as he tossed her bodily onto his bed.

* * *

For the next week after that, Jackie became a permanent fixture at Eric and Fez's. Her job kept her insanely busy, and she loved every bit of it. She woke up in Eric's arms in the mornings happy and fulfilled, and always went to work with a sense of purpose and excitement.

She loved that Eric also worked in Milwaukee for his temporary stint with the UN, loved their lunches together, and loved that he picked her up from work every day. She loved that they had this ongoing ritual to try something different for dinner in Milwaukee every night, and she loved that they went home together and went to bed in each other's arms.

For some reason, Fez either didn't care or didn't notice, and he barely blinked an eye when she walked out of Eric's room one morning in nothing but his t-shirt and a pair of panties.

"Fez!" she squeaked, tugging at Eric's shirt to cover as much of her legs as possible. It wasn't hard, for his shirt already came down to mid-thigh, but she was awkwardly trying to pull it down to her knees.

He spared her a sleepy look and half yawned out her name in greeting.

Eric came out shirtless behind her then, nodding to Fez. "Fez."

He grunted. Then did a double-take, looking between Eric and her, and before long, a slight gleam entered his eye. It was soon replaced by a grouchy frown, and then a disgruntled grumble. "Bah if I were female I'd sleep with Eric too."

He gave Eric's chest one last offended glare, then stalked off to the bathroom.

Jackie stared after him, mouth a little agape. "Eric," she hissed, "do you— do you think Fez might not be entirely straight?"

Eric shrugged. "He's Fez. He's probably into everything."

She blinked. Once, and then again. "Huh."


	67. Chapter 67

The door to Grooves jingled as it opened and Randy looked up from where he was behind the counter. He glanced at her, then did a double take.

"Donna?"

"Randy. Hey."

He put aside the pile of records he had been trying to sort on the counter and took in his girlfriend's new look.

"I, just— Wow," he said, blinking at her.

She pushed a curl of bright red hair behind her ear, and smiled self-consciously. "It's my natural color," she said needlessly.

He nodded, a little dazedly. "Yeah, I know. Just… never seen it on your head before." Smiling, he added, "I really like it. Why'd you change it back?"

"Uh, um, I—," she swallowed and looked into his earnest eyes. Thoughts of Eric came to her mind and her feet took her determinedly forward.

"Randy, we need to talk."

* * *

Donna spent about ten minutes outside Fez and Eric's apartment fussing with her hair and adjusting her outfit. Her skirt was short, and she debated pulling it up an extra inch. She looked down at her top and wondered if it was too low. She practiced and re-practiced her speech in her head, and when she was confident that she had gotten it right, she squared her shoulders and shook her old/new hair back, striding into the apartment.

"Hey, Fez," she said, spying him on the couch with marshmallows, M&Ms, and some other unidentified candy laid out in rows and rows before him on the coffee table. She frowned as she saw him push some in place and take out others, opened her mouth to ask, but then decided she didn't want to know.

He turned around and brightened when he saw her. "Ooooh, love your hair." He took a second look as his eyes raked down her outfit. "Oooooh. Sexy."

Then he frowned, "Why're you here? Didn't Eric say we were all to meet at the basement later?" He answered himself before she could, and smirked knowingly. "Ahhhh. This must be about that something important he was gonna tell us."

She nodded absently, and fidgeted with her skirt. "Yeah, um, I needed to see him before that. Is he around?"

Fez nodded lasciviously. "He just got out of the shower. He's in his room. Walk right in," he sang.

Donna shot him an exasperated look and headed towards Eric's room. The door was closed, but she didn't think twice, and walked right in without even a knock with regard to his privacy.

He was towelling his hair dry with his back to her, and whatever she was thinking to say and planning to do when she saw him died on her lips as her eyes landed on the massive scarring across his back.

The skin on his back had healed over as best as it could, and it didn't hinder his motion and mobility as much as it should. But even with Ebele's best efforts, the scars were knotted and raised across the upper half, with the worst of it concentrated between his shoulder blades, a crisscross of pink, red and white; stark on the warm gold of the rest of his body.

A half-sob rose to her throat and Eric whirled around sharply as she shuddered a cry.

Ice entered his eyes as he saw her standing there with her hand still on the doorknob. "Donna," he said, but it came out as more of a growl. "What the hell are you doing here."

He grabbed his shirt off the bed and pulled it over his head roughly. It stuck in patches to where his body was still wet from the shower.

Her mouth worked as she struggled to find words. "I— sorry, I just, I wanted to see you." Her eyes registered distress, and her hands were fisted tightly at her sides. She came a half-step forward, closing the door. "Eri—."

He stopped her with a short wave of his fingers, jaw tight. "Knock next time, please."

Hurt flashed across her face, and her lip trembled.

He noticed and closed his eyes briefly. He exhaled heavily, tension still in the line of his shoulders. "What do you want?"

"I— I…" Her gaze fell from his face to his body and in a sudden move she crossed the space between them, her fingers closing around the hem of his shirt. She tried to yank it upwards and his hand closed around her wrist tightly.

She looked at him, startled, and his eyes bored into hers.

"What are you doing."

"Let me see," she told him, insistent, almost surprised that she was meeting resistance from him.

"No."

He stepped away from her, but she held on tight. The cotton of his shirt fisted in her hand.

"Eric." Her eyes flashed fire.

He didn't react. "Let go of my shirt," he told her quietly.

She ignored him and bodily stepped around him, tugging his shirt upwards. She didn't get very far before his hand tightened around her wrist with almost bruising force.

"Donna. Stop it." His eyes were hard. "It's not your place."

Shock played across her features. Indignation and outrage soon followed.

"It's _always_ my place." The look on her face dared him to disagree.

"Not anymore," he said, a finality in his tone that brook no argument. He jerked his shirt out of her hand and stepped back, putting three feet of space between them.

She took a half step towards him, almost in disbelief. He stopped whatever she was going to say with his next words.

"I think it's best if you leave. Jackie gets off work early today, and I don't want to give her any wrong ideas if she were to walk in on you in my room."

For a brief moment there was silence so thick, one could hear a pin drop. Then, a truly ugly look made its way across Donna's face.

"What are you saying," she asked, gritting each word slowly and carefully out through twisted lips.

Her expression was forbidding, and warned him to choose his words carefully. But Eric was unfazed.

"Every man that Jackie has ever known has cheated on her or lied to her in some way." He paused, and met her eyes steadily, "Now that she's mine, there is no way in hell I will ever give her a reason to doubt the depth of my feelings for her."

Donna reeled back, her eyebrows drawn straight down in shocked disbelief. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish. "You're saying—," she started, then swallowed, almost as if it physically hurt her to acknowledge what Eric had so plainly stated. "You're _saying_ that you have feelings for her. For _Jackie."_

"Yes," he replied. His voice fell an octave lower and then, simply, clearly, "I love her."

A choked sound worked its way out of Donna's throat. Her eyes glassed over and a trembling started around her shoulders. It took her several seconds to process his words amidst the roaring in her ears and the tearing in her heart.

"That's a lie," she finally hissed, lunging suddenly towards him, arms raised, and in that moment she didn't know if she wanted to hit him or claw his eyes out.

He caught her forearms before she could rake her nails down his cheek.

"Stop it, Donna. This is not you."

A hoarse kind of growl made it past her lips, and sparks shot out from her eyes. She hurled herself at him with renewed vigor, her hands balling into tight fists, and if Eric had been the boy he was before he left for Africa, Donna might very well have shoved him out the open window.

But he wasn't, and being heftier now he barely moved an inch.

She gave up after several minutes, and her chest heaved and her body sagged, but he supported her weight by her forearms and just allowed her to rail against him. "I don't believe you, this is impossible," she cried and he could feel the heat of her breath against his cheek.

He shook his head, but she was too blinded by tears and emotion to see it. "I love her," he repeated quietly.

"No," she said, with a sharp shake of her head. Then again, more emphatically, " _No._ That's ridiculous. You love _me_."

He kept quiet, and simply looked at her.

"I don't believe you. There's no way that you and her could _ever_ — I mean. She's—," she broke off with a derisive expression of scorn on her face. "You love _me._ Me." She stepped forward to get as close to him as he would allow. "It's me, _Donna_. Look at me!"

Her eyes were wide and pleading and desperate. But she looked just like the red-headed girl next door that he had fallen in love with at five.

"I am," he said.

It was as if she couldn't understand, or wouldn't. She didn't think that the day would come when he would be the one telling her no.

"No," she said again, wild-eyed and her breath started coming out in spurts. "I won't accept this. You _can't_ possibly just _stop_ loving _me_."

He didn't answer, releasing her arms and choosing instead to step past her towards his room door. He pulled it open and stood calmly by it with one hand on its edge.

She stared at him dumbly, and then sobs shook her frame and a cry tore out of her. " _Eric._ "

His eyes found hers and what he told her next, he meant with all his heart. "Our time has passed, but I'll always have a special place in my heart for you, Donna."

Her face was wet with tears, but her pride demanded that she held her head high. "No," she insisted, nearly blinded by her tears as she stumbled towards the door he held open for her. "You're wrong. I won't believe this. You just need time."

She ignored Fez's look of confusion as she blustered her way out of their apartment; thoroughly convinced that this was some mistake and a nightmare she had somehow awoken to find herself in.


	68. Chapter 68

For some reason, amidst the pounding of her heart and the rushing in her ears, Donna found herself at home. In the bedroom she grew up as a little girl and met and loved the scrawny neighbor boy next door. She sat by the window seat staring out the window, and as she had since she had left Eric's apartment, feeling as if everything in the world had ceased to make sense.

A stray breeze rustled the curtains of the open window and her gaze sharpened as she saw a familiar raven-haired figure cross the Forman driveway and make her way gracefully down the stairs to the Forman basement.

The dull ache in her heart gave way to a blazing anger.

* * *

The door to the basement crashed open as Donna swooped in, eyes shooting sparks as they swept the basement and narrowed on Jackie thumbing through a magazine, alone on the couch.

Jackie looked up, surprised, then smiled uncertainly in greeting at the belligerent expression on her friend's face.

"I don't understand," Donna ground out.

She frowned in answering confusion, flipping the magazine slowly shut. "Don't understand what?"

"Hyde. You said you loved him. _Him_."

Jackie gave her a blank look, blinking slowly, and then, in a sudden moment of insight, understanding dawned.

"No…," she breathed. "Oh Donna… I do, I do love him. But I'm not _in_ love with him anymore. I— I haven't been in a long while."

"So you're not in love with him anymore." Donna barked out a laugh that sounded alien coming from her. Her eyes raked down Jackie's form, and she spat out her next few words like arrows to wound. "You're saying you love Eric?" Her eyes swept slowly down Jackie's body again, and condescension oozed from every pore, "That you're _in_ love with Eric. _My Eric._ "

It came as a shock, those words from Donna's mouth, and despite the sudden leap in her pulse, a calm swept over her. With a soft _click_ , everything fell clearly into place for her. She stood up from the couch and met Donna's accusing gaze head on. Her eyes when she answered were steady and never wavered.

"Yes," she said simply.

It happened so fast Jackie never saw it coming. With a resounding crack, Donna's hand slammed against her cheek with so much force it snapped her head sharply to the right and she fell to her knees.

"You bitch," Donna snarled, spittle about her lips.

Dazed, Jackie's eyes were bright with unshed tears as she looked up at Donna. She raised a hand, breathing heavily and literally seeing stars. "Look, Donna, we never meant for it to—"

But Donna was shaking her head violently, sending red hair flying in all directions, and cut her off before she could finish. "There's no _'we'_ about it. It was all _you. You_ seduced him. Eric would never. _Never_ ," she said fiercely, eyes wild, "fall for someone like _you_."

It hurt. It really hurt to hear someone tell her that to her face. The tears Jackie had been trying to hold back spilled over and coursed down her cheeks. She sucked in a sob, and tried to explain once more. "Donna no, please just listen. It wasn't anything like that. I—,"

Heavy footsteps clumped down the stairs and a booted foot nudged the door open as Hyde came in carrying a box of baby stuff.

He frowned as he took in Donna's furious countenance and Jackie's shrinking figure on the ground, eyes swiftly zooming in on the blooming red imprint on the pale skin of Jackie's left cheek. He dropped the box instantly, crossing over in three strides to insert himself between Jackie and the much larger figure that Donna presented.

He stared at her incredulously. "What the hell? Did you _hit_ her?"

Hyde had never hit a woman in his life, but he was sorely tempted to deck Donna right now. He shot Jackie a quick glance to make sure she was okay before he turned to face Donna again.

Donna barely noticed him. Spitting with fury, she tried to shove past him to get to Jackie. "You whore. You filthy, _filthy_ whore. You're not my friend."

She lunged herself at Hyde to round on a sobbing Jackie, and he barely managed to latch on to both her arms as she did so.

"Woah. Easy, Donna," he exclaimed, more than a little shocked. Her knee narrowly missed his groin and he grunted a little at the close shave.

And then she said it. With as much vitriol as she could muster, she spat the words at Jackie. "How long did you wait before you slept with him, huh?"

Something in Jackie snapped, and she whipped her head up to scream back at Donna. "How long did _you_ wait to sleep with Randy?!"

Donna was a big girl, and Hyde was a strong guy, but it was not easy to hold her off when she was fueled by a haze of anger. Her arms lashed out and her legs swung forward, and it took almost all his strength to keep her back.

Thoroughly confused now, his head swivelled back and forth between the two girls. With a bad, nearly sinking, feeling in his gut, and his arms full of a raging Donna, Hyde scarcely managed to grate out, "Slept with who?"

He heard Jackie scramble to her knees. "You've no right! No right at all. It was never like that between us!" she shrieked at Donna from behind him.

'Stop it. _Stop it_. The both of you," Hyde ordered desperately, at the same time trying to avoid Donna's swinging fist. "Slept with who?" he asked again, in between breaths.

They ignored him.

"You knew! You knew what he was to me! How could you? _How could you_?!" Donna screamed at Jackie, anguish in every syllable.

He heaved a deep breath and with a mighty shove, Hyde sent Donna backwards a couple of steps. She stumbled but barely noticed, her very soul consumed with wretchedness that Eric had somehow chosen Jackie over her. Hyde adjusted his shirt, breathing heavily.

Not without some sick sense of trepidation, he too, slowly turned around to face Jackie.

Jackie was a wreck, her hair fell in a riot of waves around her face and her cheek was tearstained and beginning to swell from the blow that Donna dealt her.

"Slept with who, Jackie?" he tried to ask her in a level tone. His thoughts were a whirl but the inane thought that she looked absolutely beautiful made an appearance in his mind.

Her eyes were wild and bright with more tears as it swept warily back and forth between the both of them. Despite herself, she involuntarily took a half-step back as they advanced towards her. Heaving sobs shook her slight frame and she bit down on her hand, hard, to try and stifle them.

Hyde's glare would have sent lesser individuals scurrying for cover. "Slept with _who_?" he bit out harshly, and she flinched, but he was desperate to know, and at some level, was refusing to believe that this entire scene was playing out in front of him.

Jackie had never seen him this mad before; not even when he had found her with Kelso in Chicago. There was a crazed look in his eyes that frightened her, and she willed herself to stop shaking.

She stiffened her spine, and met their gazes head on. Her lips started to form an answer around Eric's name, but the door opened again behind them and Jackie's eyes flew to meet the cool green ones of the figure by the door.

This time she couldn't hold back a strangled cry and she nearly fell over herself to hurl herself in his arms.

"Please, please, take me away. Please," she sobbed into his neck, as he cradled her to him and raised forbidding eyes to the other two occupants in the room.

Stunned into shock, Hyde could only stare, the sight in front of him straight out of his recurring nightmare.

"Who struck Jackie?" Eric asked, his voice tight with barely controlled fury.

Donna sniffed loudly, and swiped her hair off her forehead. Hyde didn't move, still frozen in disbelief.

"Who?" he barked, and Donna jumped, while Hyde slowly came to.

Eric read the defiance in the bluish-grey of Donna's eyes and came to his own conclusion. "I've never in my life held anything but respect for you, but after this," he told her, holding her gaze. Ice filled his as he continued, "No more."

She looked into his green eyes, once filled with so much love and passion for her, and knew she had lost him forever.

"If you had a problem with my choice, you could have come to me directly, not gone around my back and taken it out on my girlfriend."

Donna hitched back a sob at the word. He chose Jackie. He really did. And he had staked his claim in front of the two people that it would matter the most to.

A guttural growl tore out of Hyde's throat and without warning he launched himself at Eric. He didn't care that Jackie was in the way. He hated that her face was in Eric's neck and it was Eric's arms still protectively around her. He wanted to rip Eric to shreds.

Eric saw Hyde coming at him and reacted, pulling Jackie deftly off him and out of harm's way. He braced himself for the blow that came to his jaw, the force of it whipping his head back, but he stood his ground.

He heard Jackie scream when it landed and saw Hyde pull back his fist for another blow to the gut. This time however, he blocked it nimbly with his forearm, and sidestepped the other fist that Hyde aimed at his face. The momentum it carried sent Hyde hurtling towards the wall behind, and Eric caught him in a stronghold with both arms behind his back.

A mad scuffle ensued; and Hyde tried to wiggle free. He yanked to the right and then the left and they both fell to the ground with a heavy thump.

"Stop it," Eric gritted out. He pulled him to his feet with his arms still behind his back.

"No," Hyde hissed, and tried to wrench his arms free. He pulled suddenly forward and planted both feet against the wall, kicking off it and trying to throw Eric off-balance, but Eric held strong and shoved him roughly back into the wall with a sickening crunch. He leant forward to growl next to his ear.

"Look. The first throw I allowed because I deserved it. I know what she meant to you and that's on me, for she's now with me. But that's it. We're even. I didn't steal her from you — you were married long before she even knew about how I felt about her."

Hyde jerked back violently, his breath heavy and coming out in spurts, and Eric eased up on his hold enough to force him to turn around. He threw him back against the wall again and pinned a forearm firmly against his throat.

His hands flew up to tug against Eric's arm, but it didn't budge. Hyde glared at him, hatred spewing from his shaded eyes. "You _son of a bitch_."

Eric returned the look with a cold one of his own. "No, you listen. _You_ gave her up. You had your chance — she loved you even when you were with Sam and would have taken you back in a heartbeat."

"You moth-," Hyde started, then choked and clutched at Eric's arm as he exerted enough pressure to nearly cut off his air supply.

He continued as if Hyde had not spoken at all. "But thank God you were too stupid to do so because you didn't, and she belongs to me now. So stop making her life a living hell like the selfish asshole that you are and let her go."

"No," Hyde spat out.

"That's your choice. But Jackie and I are together whether you like it or not. And now we don't have to hide it anymore. Which by the way she insisted out of consideration for _your_ feelings."

A crazed look made its way across his face and quite suddenly, Hyde started cackling. Then without warning he stopped and spat in Eric's face.

"Fuck you, Forman."

He shot Jackie a look of pure hate and watched in satisfaction as the glob of spit made its way down the side of Eric's lean cheek.

"The next time you fuck her you should think about the number of times I blew my load inside her."

Blind fury took him, and Eric's honed control snapped. Grabbing Hyde around the throat, he pulled his curly head back and slammed it against the wall.

It hit the wall with a sharp crack and Eric pulled it back to slam it again.

And again.

Hyde's forehead split and blood flew. The sound of his manic cackles filled the air.

If he could, he believed that he would have done him a serious injury. But then Eric felt Jackie pulling on his arm and he let go, the mad haze of anger draining out of him at her touch.

Hyde sidled to the floor, blood flowing from the wound. His glasses had fallen off their usual perch and were askew on his face.

Eric's eyes were lethal as they fell on him. "You don't speak to her. You don't look at her. You don't fucking _talk_ about her."

He turned to Jackie and noticing the pallor of her face, swept her up in his arms. She wound her arms tightly around his neck and turned her face into his shoulder.

He spared Hyde one last condescending look as he lay sprawled on the floor. "You might want to get that checked out. I'm sure my mom will do it for you. Better yet, head down to the hospital and get one of the nurses to do it. We all know how much you can't resist one."

He turned to Donna then, who hadn't moved from her spot by the couch. She had a hand stuffed in her mouth and tears were running down her cheeks.

"If you weren't a woman, I would have killed you for laying a hand on Jackie, friend or not." His eyes were steel, and she shivered at the coldness of his tone.

She stared numbly as he carried Jackie tenderly out of the room, then she wrapped her arms around herself and all the sobs that she had been holding back since he came in poured out in the face of what she had lost.


	69. Chapter 69

"You okay?" Eric asked her quietly, laying Jackie gently on the leather seat of the Vista Cruiser. He turned her face lightly to the side, then laid the backs of his fingers against the softness of her cheek.

She nodded, and his fingers clenched into a fist at the mark that Donna had left on her face.

She noticed and looked up, threading her fingers into his and gently uncurling his. "It's okay. I think she had every right."

He pulled the seatbelt silently across her body and fastened it securely. "No she didn't," he told her flatly. " _They_ didn't."

She exhaled slowly. "So now they know," she said softly.

"Now they know," he agreed, "not how we planned it, but." He broke off and shrugged as he closed her door and walked around to get into the driver's seat.

The engine rumbled and he pulled out of the driveway and before long, they had exited the neighborhood and were on one of the busier main streets of the town.

"Where do you want to go?"

She lifted a shoulder, staring out of the windshield of Eric's car. Her mind rolled through a list of places and she rejected them all. There wasn't a place that didn't carry a memory of the gang.

She thought of a far-off land, of yellow ochres and red clay, of smiling black faces and open arms. She remembered thatched roofs and mud walls; a stormy night with heavy rain. She thought of the umbrella tree where they first made love; an endless sky, glittering stars. She remembered a waterfall and a hidden cave; the echo of birdsong, the fullness in her heart.

Closing her eyes she swallowed a heavy feeling. She shrugged again.

Eric drove on aimlessly, and ten minutes later cut into an empty parking lot and killed the engine. His hands were tense on the wheel and he glanced over at her, misunderstanding her melancholia.

He opened his mouth to say something just as she reached out for him.

"He hurt you," she said, as her eyes narrowed on the shadow that was beginning to darken his jaw.

He leaned his jaw into her hand, which like her, was dainty and small. "I don't like it when people hurt you," she said quietly.

Her eyes took on a pensive cast and she turned judgement towards herself, and her words came out on the whisper of a breath, "I've hurt you."

A smile lifted the corner of his lips. He turned her hand to place a kiss on the inside of her wrist. The veins were blue against the milk of her skin and he traced one of them with a finger, following its path until it disappeared halfway up her forearm.

He smiled again, a small one, and brought his eyes up to meet hers. "You've given me so much more."

She snorted, and wrenched her hand back to swipe at her eyes. After a couple of deep breaths where she could feel his eyes still on her, she turned back to him.

"Will you drive us? There's some place I want to take you to."

* * *

They pulled into a secluded copse surrounded by trees that Eric was unfamiliar with, but Jackie knew very well indeed.

She took his hand as he stepped out from the car and pulled him gently along with her. "Come."

They walked on in silence among evergreen trees, picking their way through fallen branches and upturned rocks until the undergrowth lightened and gave way to the small grassy edge of a short cliff. The view from the top was clear, unobstructed and the hazy grey line of mountains could be made out in the distance.

She stopped in front of him, pulling his arms around the curve of her waist and folding her arms on top of the width of his forearms.

The sun glinted off the surface of a large body of water nestled below them. It stretched far and wide off into the horizon, looking to all as if it melted into the craggy grey of the rocky range.

"Hey, it's the lake," Eric said, pleasantly surprised.

"No other," she confirmed with a smile. She leaned her head back onto his shoulder and he rested his chin against her temple.

"You know," he said after a short while, "that night, when we all went skinny dipping down there?"

"Yeah?" she answered, enjoying the rumble of his voice in his chest against her back.

"I was totally in love with Donna, of course, but I couldn't help but notice you've one of the finest asses I've ever seen on a woman."

She let loose a delighted giggle, which led to a full out laugh, and angled her face and lips upwards towards him. He smiled and bent down to kiss her.

Her laughter soon subsided on the feel of his tongue against hers and eventually they broke apart for air. Their breaths mingled as he rested his nose against hers to stare into her eyes for a long moment.

"I love you, you know," he told her quietly.

He saw something in her eyes shift. They darkened as an intense emotion churned in their depths and she surged upwards again to kiss him so deeply he was blown away. She pulled back suddenly, lips swollen and breath short. Her pupils were dilated and wild but he read a slight apprehension in them.

He frowned in concern. "Jackie?"

She leant upwards urgently for another kiss, even more thoroughly this time, that he was left blinking for a moment when she broke the kiss abruptly and he realized that she had sunk to her knees on the ground before him.

"What're you—,"

Even in the years that followed, Eric could never figure how she had managed to get his jeans around his ankles so deftly. He attributed it to how his brain had completely shut down the moment he felt the heat of her mouth and the fullness of her lips close around the length of his manhood.

"Jesu—,"

He broke off with a sharp intake of breath as she pulled sensuously back until only the head was in her mouth and the tip of her tongue started a teasing dance around his tip.

His hand flew out to grip her shoulder and she let her open palms trail up the backs of his calves, up the backs of his knees, and then his thighs, relishing the feel of hair-roughened skin against the softness of her palms.

She tasted salt on her tongue and wetness pooled between her legs and with a soft moan, her hands dug into his behind as she opened her mouth to draw him fully into the heat of her.

The suddenness of the action sent him flinging his other arm out against a tree for support, and his fingers clenched around bark and the other went around the base of her neck as she pulled back and then forwards and then back again, before abandoning her game to let her tongue take over instead.

She licked, she stroked, she grazed with teeth; lavishing him with attention and loving the feel of him all around her tongue, the fullness of him in her mouth, against her cheek, and in her hands. Satin and steel and the scent of musk and arousal and saliva, they mixed and mingled and filled her senses till she was drunk on the potent cocktail of it all.

A guttural groan worked its way out of his throat and her lashes flicked upwards to find his eyes, heavy-lidded and wild with need. His fingers tightened around the base of her throat, and it gave way to an intense desperation in her for the feel of more.

Her hands covered what her mouth could not, and she boldly reached out to test the weight of swollen and heavy globes at the base of him. She massaged and caressed, and soon took one gently in her mouth and then the other.

And yet again, Eric was finding it difficult to breathe. Dark hair spilled around her shoulders as she knelt between his thighs and with every little hum that she made, every sensual look she threw up at him and every mischievous smile she sent up his way, he was finding it harder and harder to hold on to his sanity.

His hand clutched the back of her head under her hair as she returned to the length of him, and took him deeper and deeper; and just when she thought she couldn't take any more of him into her mouth, she found that if she angled her jaw just so, and opened her throat a little more, she could take in just that little bit more.

And she wanted to. She wanted to possess him as completely as he did her.

She bobbed and he bucked and a furious rhythm was established between them. The muscles in her jaw ached along with those in her throat and she embraced the feel of both with all her heart.

She heard Eric let loose a curse above her, and she was unprepared for when a hot burst of salt hit the back of her throat, gagging once at the unfamiliar taste, before instinctively and eagerly swallowing it all.

He sagged his weight against the tree and she finally let go of him when she was satisfied that she had sucked out every last drop. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were rosy but she continued to kneel on the floor before him, resting her head against his thigh, and running her hands up his legs, enjoying the satiny feel of the backs of his knees.

The woods were quiet about them, which seemed surreal in the tumult of what they had experienced. She gave him time for his breathing to return to normal, and turned her head slightly to the left, burying her face in the warmth of his flesh at the point between his groin and his thigh where the scent of him was the strongest.

Wood and spice and earth.

Her heart was so full of him she thought it would burst. She breathed him in and pressed a long kiss to the warmth of that very spot. Rising up a little, and pulling the waistband of his jeans up with her, she then pressed another kiss further up, in the sculpted indentation between his hips and abdomen. She trailed her hands under his shirt and up the sides of his waist before he hauled her to her feet.

Her legs were unsteady and she leaned on his strength for support as a dreamy look entered her eyes as she met his. Something primal roared in him as he cupped her jaw, and with his thumb, carefully wiped the corner of her lips where a trickle of him lingered.

His voice was low and husky as he looked into her eyes. "Jesus Jackie, where did you learn how to do that?"

She gave him a winsome smile. And then with an impish arch of her eyebrows and a toss of her hair, she replied primly, "Cosmo."

He barked out a laugh. "Seriously?!"

She nodded her head playfully. Then, she sobered and cast her eyes towards the ground. He watched as her lashes formed shadows on her cheekbones and waited till she spoke again.

"With Michael… we never did 'it', as often as he claimed to have. And when we did, it was over in oh, two point oh six seconds anyway."

A wry smile crossed her lips. "And Steven…," she took a deep breath and looked up into his clear eyes. "With Steven I… I had already given him so… much. I just... I couldn't give him anymore of myself. So this, _this,_ we never did." She smiled another small tremulous smile. "This part of me... I could only bring myself to give to you."

Her arms tightened around his waist. "Only with you, Eric."

It took him a long moment before he could find words. Mulling over what she just shared with him and the implications of that. He stared down at her dark head as she dipped it so that she could lie it against his chest.

So that she could hear the beat of his heart.

"Only with me, huh," he said, and even to him, the slight crack in the tenor of his voice was clear.

She nodded, and her hair rustled against the fabric of his shirt. "Only with you."

He breathed in the fresh scent of her hair, pressing a kiss to the rich black locks, and then another one to her forehead. His arms were full of the precious girl that held his heart and he didn't think there was a thing he wouldn't do for her.

They stood that way for a long, long while, wrapped in each other's arms, and neither of them wanted to be the first to let go.


	70. Chapter 70

"Oh Steven, honey," Kitty said softly as she dabbed some foul-smelling liquid on the mess that was his forehead. Parts of his hair nearest to his forehead was sticky with drying blood and Kitty's hands worked steadily even though her heart was heavy.

Donna had driven them both to the hospital in his Camino, perhaps doing the only sensible thing that she had been doing ever since Eric got back, by insisting that Hyde get the bloody gash checked out.

Maybe because she had had more time to digest the news, or maybe because of the near-catatonic state that Hyde was in, but she had somehow found it in her to get ahold of herself now.

She sniffled loudly, folding her arms across her middle and alternating between staring at Kitty attend to Hyde, and staring at the floor and wishing it would open and just swallow her whole.

"This might sting, sweetie," Kitty told Hyde gently, holding a needle to the skin on his forehead to administer an anaesthetic before she could sew up the gash. He barely reacted, blue eyes fixed somewhere on the trays of syringes and drawers of bandages behind Kitty. His Ray-Bans had broke in two places, adding to a seemingly never-ending list of things that he had broken or lost recently.

Kitty jabbed him in three spots along the two inch wound and if not for the reflexive jerk and scowl that he sent her way when the needle went in, she would have sent for another doctor to reconfirm that he didn't have a concussion and/or brain damage.

They didn't say, and Kitty didn't have to ask, to guess at what must have gone down to warrant Donna and Hyde's appearance at the hospital that she worked at, and she wondered and worried about her son and Jackie.

The needle went in and then back out, almost rhythmically, and save for the quiet _tick tick tick_ of the clock, silence reigned in the sterility of the room.

"There, all done," Kitty murmured about twenty minutes later, peeling off her gloves and washing her hands in the sink. "What about you, honey?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at Donna, "Do you need checking over?"

"No, Mrs. Forman. Thanks."

"Okay then," she replied, pulling out paper napkins from the dispenser and drying her hands before placing them on her hips. She looked and them quietly, weighing what to say, but then the overhead PA system beeped, and they looked at her as she was paged to another wing at the hospital. She sighed.

"I gotta go, kids," she said, with heavy glances at the both of them. "But... know that I love you both as much as I love Eric and Jackie." She paused as they both flinched at the mention of those respective names, and belligerent expressions came over their faces. Kitty held up a hand before they could say anything.

"The four of you, you grew up together," she said gently. "But. That doesn't mean that either of you owe each other anything if you've managed to find with someone... what I've witnessed between the both of them."

There was a strangled sound and Hyde's eyes flashed fire and Donna's eyebrows came down fiercely in an ugly frown.

Kitty exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. When she opened her eyes, she glanced at the two of them matter-of-factly.

"Eric and Jackie, they didn't need to spare your feelings, but they did. They found each other when the both of you had long since abandoned them for 'greener' pastures." Her hands came to rest on her hips and she gave them both heartfelt looks. "I understand that the both of you are hurt. But, they care for you both, so I suggest you decide how much you value them in your life before you lose them completely."

Hyde scoffed once, and then again, louder this time. Donna followed suit with a mirthless laugh of her own, and her folded arms tightened.

Kitty raised her eyebrows, but didn't acknowledge either of their reactions. "I'm only going to say this once: Stop being so self-involved. It's not about you, so realize that they've both long since left you behind. Take your heads out of your…your _asses_ , and _see_ that."

She walked over to the door, pulling it open, then spoke without looking at them, more sad than upset. "Steven, you're having a baby with Sam. A new family. _Your_ family."

She turned around to look at him then, but she might as well be speaking to stone; he gave no indication that he heard her. She sighed.

"Donna," she tried, and her features softened as she took in the red hair for the first time, and remembered the girl who had made her son so happy once before. "Donna," she said again, gently, "Randy… he loves you. He's a good boy, it isn't too late to mend things before they become irreparable."

Donna looked away and fixed her gaze on the floor.

Kitty sighed again just as the PA system blared, paging her once again. She turned and closed the door behind her, leaving them both alone in the room with a soft _click._

* * *

It was maybe a minute, or it could be a hundred, but the silence in the hospital treatment room was suddenly broken when a tray holding several instruments crashed against one of the stark white walls.

Donna jumped in shock, eyes wide as she watched Hyde leap off the gurney and grabbed a packet of empty syringes and hurled that against the wall too.

"What the hell, Hyde!"

He ignored her, turning around and sent his fist at the wall. It slammed hard against concrete and Hyde howled, cradling his hand to his chest. He glared at the wall and let a foot fly at it instead, leaving a boot print on the pristine white of the paint. It seemed to satisfy him somehow, and soon, the bottom half of the wall was covered with boot prints.

"Stop it! Jeeze, c'mon, you can't—,"

He whirled around and glared at her, pointing a finger half and inch away from her face. "Don't tell me what I can and can't do," he snarled. The finger dropped and curled into a fist at his side. "If fucking Forman can take my girl, I can do anything I want."

Donna stared at him wordlessly as he slammed both fists down on the gurney, shoulders heaving.

"He didn't take her," she said quietly after awhile, still staring at Hyde with her arms crossed, " _Jackie_ stole him." And then more viciously, "She _seduced_ him."

Hyde turned to her with a disbelieving look, taking in her short skirt, low top, and newly dyed hair. "Seriously, Donna?"

A slight tinge of red stole across her cheeks and forehead, and her chin came up defensively. "It's not like that between Eric and me."

He snorted. "Sure, Donna."

Her nostrils flared. "What do you mean."

He didn't bother to answer.

She wouldn't let it go. "What Eric and I have is _real_."

Hyde sniggered. "For fuck's sake Donna. You used him like a call boy," a pause, "friend. Call boyfriend." He cackled again.

She shoved him.

He glared at her.

"Whatever, Donna. Your head turned the moment Randy walked through the door. And let's not forget Kelso's brother. And then Eric came back again, only this time he's Eric 2.0 and you dropped Randy like a hot brick."

Tears pricked her eyes. "It's not like that," she hissed at him.

Hyde shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat." He eyed her, "I think the only reason why you hung on to him like you're doing is because he dumped you first this time."

Her eyes flashed fire. "Go to hell, Hyde," she spat viciously at him through her teeth.

A bleak look crossed his face, and then an emptiness as it entered his eyes. "Already there, Big D."


	71. Chapter 71

It could have been minutes, or even hours, but eventually they picked their way leisurely through the dense copse to the clearing in the woods close to where Eric had left his car.

"Why did you take me here?" Eric asked, breaking a comfortable silence that cocooned them; born from the magnitude of emotions they had both experienced earlier where they had been rewarded by a glimpse into each others' souls.

Their linked hands swung gently between them and she stopped as they were several feet away from the Cruiser.

He turned to her, a question in the slight arch of his brows.

She had turned a little away from him, though her hand was still in his, and when she turned back to face him, she had an almost indecipherable look on her face.

"I took you here because…," she trailed off, searching for the right words to cement feelings. It wasn't long before she found them. "Because… I wanted to create a new memory."

She looked slowly around the quiet and peace of the area, closing her eyes and breathing in the piney scent of the trees.

"A new memory," she repeated, nodding absently as if to confirm a realization. "I wanted a new one, to replace the old ones that I've had… I've always loved this place, because… maybe because being up here made me feel like I was leaving the… the _weight…_ of the town below me. It made my thoughts clearer and put things in perspective and I would start to feel that everything would be okay again."

Eric brought her hand to his mouth, gently rubbing her knuckles against his lips. "Go on," he said.

"So I had thought then, that it would be the best place to take Steven out on our first date ever," she finished with a tinkling laugh.

It was a clear sound with no hint of bitterness or regret.

Turning her head to the right, she gestured with the fingers of that hand and Eric noticed that they had stopped by the gnarled trunk of an imposing tree.

"Give me your knife? The one that you use for whittling?"

He nodded, reaching into the right pocket of his jeans and pulled it out. He flipped it open and handed it to her hilt first. "Careful, sweetheart, it's sharp."

She took it from him, turning it around in her hands and smiled as memories assailed her. It was a beautiful knife, given to him by Morathi, the handle made from pure African Blackwood with a grain so fine it was barely visible. Under certain light, a deep brown would appear in the rich black of the wood and Eric had told her once that it reminded him of the color of her hair.

It took her maybe an hour, even two, to which she refused all manner of help from Eric, though she admitted that things could have gone along a lot faster if he didn't stop her so often to kiss her or rain kisses up and down her neck. He teased her non-stop throughout, trying to wrestle the knife from her and at one point reminding her in a lofty tone that he was the one with all the carving experience here.

But two hours later, she stepped back proudly with sweat glistening against her temple and wood shavings in her hair, and all over her hands. She turned towards Eric, suddenly shy, hoping that he would like it.

What remained of the crude outline of a heart that once housed the initials "JB & SH 4Eva" was now gone.

In its place lay another heart, nearly perfect and almost symmetrical in shape. Jackie had painstakingly scraped away the rough and textured bark inside the new heart, revealing pale, smooth wood underneath, and right in the middle she had carved "Jackie" and "Eric" and between those names rested another heart.

He reached out long fingers and touched the heart, feeling the grooves and lines where she had chipped and scraped and scratched away to ingrain their memory into a tree.

"You got good," he said softly, moved by words that she could not say, but poured forth and could be seen so clearly in her every action, in her very touch, with her body, and in each and every smile that she gave him.

Jackie sniffed, turning her nose up in the air. "I've watched you do similar with wood a million times. Some of it rubbed off." The effect was ruined when she gave a mighty sneeze, and rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand, leaving a smudge of dirt across the tip.

He chuckled and pulled her close.

She sighed, nestling into his chest and looking at her work in satisfaction. "There. See? Now it's set in stone. Or bark. Whatever."

"What is?"

"You. Us… Memories of you." He felt her lift slender shoulders beneath his arm. "Comfort… for… when you… leave again."

"Jackie…"

She shook her head, and turned to lean her forehead in his shoulder. "It's okay. I know this, Eric. That… you and I… we're not meant to last." Her fingers danced up the buttons of his shirt and she followed their path to meet his eyes.

"Maybe that's why it took me so long. To gather the courage to tell everyone." She lay the pads of three fingers against his lips, smoothing over them gently. "To even acknowledge what we have."

She was quiet for a while, and he was content to just have her in his arms.

"I heard you the other night…," she began tentatively, breaking the silence. "On the phone at your apartment."

He opened his mouth but she continued before he could speak. "You thought I was asleep, but I woke when you left the bed to answer it."

"Jackie…," he started to say again.

"No, it's okay," she repeated, and this time her eyes were damp. She forced past the awful ache in her heart, the sense of loss and desperation so deep she didn't know how she would ever claw her way back out of it if she allowed herself for one moment, to fall.

"It's a great offer, you should take it, you shouldn't have… shouldn't have told Jen you'd think about it." She smiled a watery smile, "The UN doesn't offer jobs as readily as you would think. And for you to continue on in Kenya? Doing what you love? Close to the people that you love? The _land_ that you love."

Her chest rose as she leaned back in the circle of his arms, hands tracing the line of his shoulders, loving the feel of him. Loving him.

She looked up bravely, selflessly, and with all that she felt in her soul for him, she smiled another smile and whispered, "Take it, Eric, it's a dream come true and you know it."

He stared at her wordlessly, wondering if she knew how hard it was for him to leave her. But this town, this country, could no longer house the spirit that he was now, the person that he had become.

Jackie knew this, had always known this. Unlike the girl that she had been before, before life and Eric had made her the woman she was now, she would never ask him to choose; to stay with her and give up something that she knew was as essential to him as breathing itself.

The words came out quietly, so quietly he wondered if it was because he was afraid to know the answer.

"Will you come with me?"

Similar words, said at a different time, in a different lifetime, to a different her, danced across her memory.

She kept quiet, allowing them to sink in, and for several moments, threw away all that she was certain about, all that she had painstakingly built for herself there, all that she had made herself and for herself, and allowed herself to entertain the thought of that possibility with him; the uncertainty of that possibility with him.

Her eyes found his; searching them, reading them, dreaming together with him.

And then her lips parted and her lashes swept down and she took a deep breath as her eyes closed.

He kissed her forehead then, almost reverently, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "You're not leaving."

It came out as more of a statement than the actual question he wanted to ask, but it would have made no difference to the answer he knew he was going to get.

He belonged in Africa.

Just as much as he knew she belonged in America.


	72. Chapter 72

They were holding hands when they swung by the Forman household a few days later for dinner at Kitty's invitation. Not surprisingly, the mood in the house was more subdued than usual although a giant smile lit up Kitty's face when Eric stepped through the slider with Jackie one step behind him.

She bustled around the counter to envelop them both in a hug, her eyes crinkling into another happy smile when she saw Eric's arm slide around and rest on the curve in Jackie's waist.

"I'm happy for the both of you," she told them, accepting Jackie's offer of help when she began laying the table.

Eric nodded, taking the stack of plates from Jackie and sliding a look in her direction, before looking at his mother. "We saw the Camino outside. Will Hyde be joining us for dinner?"

"He can if he wants to," Kitty answered him shortly. "He's always welcome at this table."

And with that, dinner was served.

They headed down to the basement after that, like they always did, for Eric was stubborn about not avoiding his favorite room in his parents' house just because Hyde still continued to live down there.

Jackie, being more sensitive was understandably more apprehensive, but with that apprehension was also a quiet serenity and peace that came from being able to be with Eric as she liked, and also not having anything else to lose when it came to both her friends.

She was surprised to see Sam there alone, on the chair that Hyde usually occupied, and thumbing through a magazine that Jackie usually loved.

Sam looked up to see the both of them standing behind the couch. She brightened when she saw Eric, then her gaze dropped to Eric's hand on the flare of Jackie's hip and a brief flash of disappointment featured on her face.

She sighed dramatically, "Of _course_ , you'd get to him first."

And Jackie found herself doing something she never would have expected herself to do before when Sam was concerned: she laughed.

With an amused shake of her head she made her way around the couch and sat facing Sam. "How're you?," she asked sincerely, taking in the gentle swell of her belly underneath the slinky tube top that Sam was wearing.

A soft smile crossed Sam's face, one that Jackie had never seen before, and made her look beautiful.

"I felt it move again today," Sam told her, eyes glowing. "The doctor said it might still be too early for me to feel it, but I'm _sure_ I felt it move."

"Did you tell Steven?" Jackie asked.

Sam's face fell. "Yeah, I did," she shrugged, fiddling with the magazine on her lap. "But I don't think he's that interested."

Jackie squashed the surge of anger she felt at Sam's words, choosing instead to touch her hand. " _I'm_ interested. Let me know when you feel it again, okay? It's been awhile that we had a baby around here since Betsy was born."

Sam was never one to hold a grudge and she lit up at Jackie's words, nodding her head happily.

The television blared as Eric turned it on and Jackie settled herself next to Eric, snuggling into his side and neck. Not three minutes later, the door to the room at the back banged open and Hyde came clomping out.

He froze when he saw the two of them on the couch, and his eyes narrowed further when he took in Sam sitting comfortably there with them, acting as if the travesty of Eric and Jackie together wasn't a monstrosity in the least.

Jackie was the first to turn to acknowledge his presence. "Steven, hi." She tried a small smile.

He tensed up in reply, deeply repulsed at where Jackie's head had been nestled in Eric's neck. He swallowed bile, and ignored them both, choosing to bark at Sam instead, "What're you doing out here?"

Sam blinked in surprise, looking comically around her at the basement as if it had somehow turned into a different room since she had moved back in with Hyde. "Uh," she said slowly, "I live here?"

He bristled. "Well get in the room," he said rudely.

She looked confused, but otherwise ignored him, turning back to the television instead.

Jackie angled her body to face Hyde, noticing the white tape still on his forehead, holding his stitches together. "You wanna watch with us?" she asked gently.

He stared at her, feeling a cut so deep he nearly bent over in pain. He saw her exchange a glance with Eric. He saw Eric sigh at whatever plea she must have made to him with her eyes. He saw Eric turn around to face him.

"Come watch with us, man," Eric offered quietly.

There was a shadow of a bruise on the side of his jaw where Hyde had decked him the other day. His first tightened and he wanted to add a hundred more punches to match the one that was already on Eric's face.

For a moment he considered Kitty's words to him at the hospital the other day. Hot on the heels of that came Jackie as he knew her in the throes of passion with him. The image of that faded as Eric's broader frame replaced his in his mind's eye, tainting his most treasured memories, tarnishing the woman who still owned his heart.

His eyes glinted an icy blue. "Fuck you, Forman," he bit out venomously.

He turned on his heel and stalked out, unable to bear the sight of them together anymore. The door of the basement slammed violently shut behind him.

* * *

They found themselves returning to the cliff every chance they had. It provided a sanctuary of sorts for them, away from the broken circle that was once six friends, away from the black cloak that was the date of Eric's imminent departure. He sat down on the ground with his back against a tree and pulled her down onto his lap.

She sank down gracefully, her skirts an elegant pool about the both of them.

"What're you thinking?" he asked her, after several moments of contented silence where she sat with her head against his shoulder and he entertained himself by twirling locks of silken ebony between his fingers.

She smiled, eyes fixed somewhere in the distance. "You."

He chuckled, bringing a black curl to his lips. "I'm right here, sweetheart."

"I know," she answered with another soft smile, wrapping her arms around her knees as he shifted her further up his lap and tightened his arms around her.

The sweet scent of her hair teased his senses, along with the warmth of her flesh and he pressed a tender kiss to her temple. She closed her eyes and he dropped light kisses on her eyelids. "I love you," he told her when she opened her eyes and got lost in the startling green of his.

She swallowed past the aching hollow in her heart, and forced herself to remain in the moment. Her eyes were clear and soft and vulnerable as she replied.

"I know."


	73. Chapter 73

Donna found him by chance a week later, sitting on the Vista Cruiser and spinning a basketball between his hands. She had been moving boxes of her stuff back to her childhood home from the apartment she shared with Randy and happened to glance out of the window to see him there.

He cut a solitary figure, pensive and unreadable, and for a long moment she simply stood and stared, a primal feeling low in her belly and a wrench in her heart. Like a moth to a flame, her feet somehow took her downstairs, across the driveway and to him.

Eric felt her standing there, and for a moment the basketball stopped its rhythmic circles between his palms. He looked up, but didn't look at her, choosing instead to look straight ahead.

"Hey," she said.

His mouth flattened into a thin line, and the ball resumed its circular rhythm between his hands.

"Eric, please, look at me," she implored him.

He tossed the ball aside and watched as it rolled into the bushes at the side of the driveway. It was several long, agonizing seconds before he finally turned his head, eyes flitting over her as if the barest glance of her offended him.

"You disgust me," he told her quietly.

Her breath hitched into a sob, stung by the bluntness of his statement. "Eric, I—,"

He stopped her with a shake of his head. "Donna, just don't."

"But I—,"

He turned his head to look at her sharply then. "You what? You _hit_ her, I will never forgive you for that."

Her eyes swam with tears.

"Goddammit Donna." His eyes swept condescendingly down her figure. "You're what? 5'9"? 10"? She's half a foot shorter and fifty pounds lighter for fuck's sake." He dragged a hand down his face, biting down on the wave of anger he still felt when he thought of the mark on Jackie's face. "Jesus."

"I'm sorry, I—,"

"Save it," he countered shortly, hopping off the hood of the Cruiser. "Please move out of the way, I'm gonna pick her up from work now."

"No, Eric, _please._ " Donna's hand shot out to grab his arm.

He shook it off.

She started crying in earnest, and he warred with something in himself and finally heaved a sigh, turning to spare her a glance. "What, Donna," he said tonelessly.

"I'm sorry, Eric. I just- I love you. I _love_ you."

He shut his eyes tight, suddenly bone-weary and tired of her antics. "Go home, Donna."

"No, please just, please hear me out," she cried, sobs hitching the end of every word.

He glanced at his watch, wanting to be with Jackie, and only out of deference for all their years as friends and neighbors, did he acquiesce and he stood and allowed her to speak.

Her pulse quickened when he made no move to leave, and despite the stony expression on his face she fell over herself in a rush to get her words out.

"I understand, I understand now. About you and me. I see that you did everything because of me, because you love me, you love _us._ I-I should have known then, that what you did you did for me and I see that now. I see that now, so Eric, you can stop pretending, you can stop… stop _punishing_ me because I see that now."

He let her words fill the silence of the air around them, wondering if he should really just go and leave her to figure it all out on her own. There was a hollow in his heart that only Jackie could fill, and with the cloud of his departure looming in the horizon, every moment and every thing that he did that wasn't spent with her seemed like a gross waste of his time.

He walked around to the side of the car and pulled the door open. "Bye, Donna."

She rushed around, pushing the door close with one hand. It shut with a loud bang.

" _Wait,_ " she cried out in disbelief, "did you not hear what I said?"

"I heard."

She drew in a shaky breath. "Okay. Okay… And?"

He shrugged. "I heard you. You can think what you want, but it makes no difference to me and Jackie."

He pulled the car door open again, making to get in, and then changed his mind, opting to face her once again.

"Donna, understand this. I love Jackie. I love her in a way that I doubt you or anyone else can ever even begin to comprehend. I did love you once, but with Jackie, with _what_ I feel for Jackie, makes me realize... Makes what love I felt for you pale in a way that is—," he broke off, shaking his head slightly to look at a point somewhere over her shoulder.

When he spoke again, his voice was lower, deeper, and filled with an emotion that he could not fully contain within himself.

"She's _everything_ , Donna. She's my everything. She completes me. With her… I feel that I can do anything. And the thing is she just—" he stopped again with an inward chuckle, sounding almost disbelieving.

He looked back at Donna, "She just is. The amazing thing about her is that life gave her so much, but when it took it away... So _brutally_ away...She… she never asked for it back, never lost her spirit, her capacity for giving, for _loving,_ never asks for more. And for her I'm… enough."

He took a deep, heartfelt breath, lost in thought. "I've never been enough for anyone before. And especially _now_... But..." A small smile lit his face, and he continued, but it was as if he had forgotten that Donna was still standing there.

"She doesn't want more," he repeated, "while here I am… wanting to give her the whole world."

He blinked, registering her presence once again, and Donna, more than a little upset, gripped the edge of the car door tightly. Jealousy pooled and her lips thinned.

"You speak of her like you used to speak of _me._ And two years ago you were a boy, with a boy's idea of love. You're-you're a man now. So. _So._ Of _course_ you'll feel, y-you'll _think_ that your feelings for her are more. It doesn't mean that."

She saw him raise an eyebrow and she moved impulsively forward, talking a mile a dozen, sounding more querulous and plaintive by the minute. She refused to let him get a word in edgewise, her sole intent to bulldoze her way into getting him to break down and see sense. To see that _she_ was right.

"You'll throw away our entire history? Years and years together? Everything we've gone through and experienced and made, _together,_ for her?"

She wasn't much shorter than him, and it was no effort for her at all to stick her face barely an inch from his.

"Eric," she said, her voice thin and high, and standing so close that he could see the fine hairs on her cheeks. "This is insane, you know this is insane. She doesn't know you like I do. Compared to how long we've been together, it's-it's laughable."

He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw her for what she was. He thought of Jackie, her unconditional support, quiet undemanding ways, steel and grace built into one small, dark, feminine package and a sense of calm and certainty filled him.

"She is what I want," he said simply.

He stepped back from Donna, and then finally got into the car.

Donna jerked, tried to stop him, but something in his manner intimidated her enough to stay put. She stared at him, unable to recognize the man before her yet at the same time desperately wanting him to be hers.

"You-you... You're wrong," she said at last. " _We've_ been through so much. And now when you're finally—," she broke off, wrestling with a gamut of emotions, fighting bitterness and an overwhelming sense of injustice that she felt was being dealt her.

"It makes me feel that Ja-," —her mouth wrinkled in distaste— "that _she's_ caught a bigger fish."

He looked at her and then looked away, accepting the fact that she would never be able to see things differently.

Donna was always all about Donna, and a relationship with her would be a relationship in which she came first in everything. Love to her was like weights on scales. She gave out only what she could get back, and she was constantly readjusting the balance to make certain that they were always slightly more in her favor.

He shook his head in resignation, making sure to meet her eyes once more. "Good bye, Donna," he said, a finality in his tone that chilled her. And then after that, with a quiet sincerity, "Have a good life."

He left her standing there in the middle of his driveway, staring after him as he drove off down the road, every meter taking him further away from her and one step closer to Jackie.


	74. Chapter 74

Jackie entered Eric's apartment with the key he gave her, kicking off black four-inch sling-backs and nearly groaning in pleasure as she flexed her toes. She struggled with the armload of work she had brought home from the studio, hefting the straps of her purse higher up her shoulder as she made her way to the dining table to deposit her load.

The place was empty, and quiet, and a small smile of pride crossed her face when she looked down at the cover of the proposal she had worked hard on and submitted to the Head of Department at Global Affairs a few weeks ago, now back in her hands again with a yellow Post-It and the words "Approved" and "Put in Action" scribbled across it. She hugged it to her chest, a feeling of satisfaction and affirmation surging through her body, feeling one step closer to the promotion she had been working so hard to get.

Shrugging off her jacket, her ears pricked at the faint sounds of running water somewhere in the apartment and she found herself wandering off in that direction.

She found Eric in the shower, head bent and darkened with water, with his palms pressed against the wall. Veins traveled up the length of his tanned arms and water rained down over the corded profile of his body. For a long moment she simply watched him, leaning against the door and drinking in the sight of him.

He turned his head towards her when she made a small noise, pushing his hair back and stepping back from the water.

They stared at each other in heavy silence, with the sound of running water, and that of their hearts beating between them, until her feet took her forward towards him and she reached up to curl her hand around the back of his neck.

Her eyes caressed his face, memorizing every line and every feature, and the exact shade of his eyes.

He broke the silence first.

"Ask me to stay," he said in a gravelly whisper.

 _Please Steven, ask me to stay. Choose me._ An echo of words long past brought forth again with his. An ultimatum she had given one man then, an ultimatum she would never give with this man now.

She brushed a wet lock of his hair back from his forehead, the backs of her fingers tracing a gentle path down his cheek. The spray of water from the overhead shower created droplets that clung to the black of her hair. Her other hand came up to frame his face, and she closed her eyes and raised on her toes, kissing him tenderly.

With her lips against his, she murmured, "I won't do that to you. I'll never do that to you."

Opening her eyes, she looked into his. "Ask you to choose," she said, even though a part of her was dying at the thought of a loss soon to come. But it was not like that between her and Eric. It had never been like that between them. What existed between them was giving, was selfless; love, in its purest form, as it was meant to be.

And Jackie knew, that if she said it back, he would move mountains to be by her side; he would give everything he held dear, just to stay with her in Point Place, for her career, for her ambitions.

He would give up his soul, just for her dreams.

She stared into eyes she loved so much, into a face she knew would haunt her dreams, into a man she knew she could spend the rest of her life searching for and never find anyone close to compare.

Her mouth opened, started to form around the words of a feeling so intense, so strong, so consuming, and then closed again. She kissed him, a half-sob rising in her throat, and felt him respond, and with one arm he hauled her about the waist and up towards him, slanting his mouth over hers.

"Make love to me, Eric," she whispered instead. "Love me."

So he did, with water raining down over both of them, just like that night in a far-off land, amidst stormy skies; that night when they had their first kiss.

* * *

The weeks flew by, quicker than any of them would have liked, but even with the warming satisfaction of Jackie beside him, he could feel the yearn for the vastness and inexorable pull of Africa in his heart. He tugged her along as he navigated his way past the shops, her laughter infectious and adding to the beauty of an already lovely day.

"Slow down, Eric, I can't keep up," she panted at his side, eyes glowing merrily as they hurried towards the store right at the end of the street that Eric had zeroed in on. "They're not gonna run out of balloons if we get there thirty seconds slower than expected."

He gave her spiked footwear a disgusted glance, and she caught the words "stupid" and "shoes" under his breath.

Mortally offended, she dug in her heels suddenly and he nearly lost his balance when she yanked hard on his hand to stop him too. "I heard that," she huffed in mock anger.

"Yeah, well, baby, I'm gonna be _late_ ," he pleaded, with desperate eyes towards the end of the street where a small group had already gathered.

"It's a balloon sculpturing _demonstration,_ you're not gonna miss out on much if you miss the first ten seconds of it."

He squinted at her. "I take this seriously."

"Say you love my shoes."

His eyes narrowed further. "That would be a lie."

She smirked and shifted her weight to one hip. Cocking her head to the side, she twirled a lock of hair around a finger and batted her lashes at him. With a pout full of her special blend of sensual innocence, she purred, "Really. Even if I'm wearing only them and nothing else?"

His eyes brightened and suddenly he saw her shoes in a new light. "I adore them, never take them off."

She nodded primly, hugely satisfied. He watched in confusion as she clutched his arm for support, wobbling dangerously as she leant down to pull off one heel and then the other.

They dangled in her hand as she took off in a run, barefooted down the street.

"C'mon," she called over her shoulder at him, "you'll miss the class! Don't want Masego and the rest to be disappointed when you head back with a truck load of balloons and no idea how to fancy them up."

He stared after her, and a grin nearly split his face as he started a slow jog, and then broke out into a full run as he chased after her petite form; light and lithe and running down the street.

* * *

"Hey, Pumpkin, you okay?" Bob asked as he pushed the door to Donna's room slowly open. He saw her lying on her bed, facing the ceiling. "I brought you some soup."

She ignored him, and continued to stare blankly upwards.

He sighed. "I'm just gonna leave it here then." He hesitated, turning to her. "Sweetie, uh, Randy came by again today."

Donna made no response.

"He…," Bob started, and then gave up. "Soup's over here," he said instead, and then turned to leave. "Just uh, call if you need anything, okay?"

The door to her room was nearly completely closed before he heard her call out softly. "Dad… next time Randy comes by… Send him up okay?"


	75. Chapter 75

They had gotten back together, Randy and her, but instead of feeling grateful, or even relief, when he took her back with open arms, all Donna felt was bitter and unhappy.

She had moved back into their apartment, not in the least bit surprised that he had chosen to keep the lease, paying rent for the both of them since she had been gone, just hoping that she would come back to him again.

She threw several boxes of cereal into her cart, and moved listlessly down the aisle, as if searching for an elusive something that she couldn't get ahold of instead of the next item on the list of groceries that she had elected to get for Randy and herself this week.

A familiar peal of laughter rang out in the next aisle and the hairs on the back of her neck stood. It was followed by a deeper, more masculine chuckle, and one that she had rarely heard since he had been back from Africa and thrown her heart and life into turmoil.

Unable to help herself, she moved forward, repulsed, but yet drawn towards them. They came into view as she rounded the aisle, and the first glimpse she caught of them together, since that day where Eric had near killed her with the ice in his eyes and carried Jackie out of the basement hit her with the force of a nearly tangible blow to the gut.

A bubble of intimacy surrounded them, a connection that was invisible to the naked eye and yet so clearly felt by all those who laid eyes on them. They drew smiles from other shoppers as they made their way down the aisle, a picture-perfect vision of happiness and contentment that made Donna want to throw up and hurl something at them.

She took in their linked hands and linked arms. She saw Jackie hop around and try to reach for something on a high shelf and Eric chuckle as he extended an arm and got it easily for her. She saw Jackie tilt her head up to his and saw his finger trace the line of her cheek and rest on her bottom lip.

Donna bit the inside of her mouth hard and the metallic taste of blood filled it. A growl of some sort made it past her throat and Eric turned his head to see her standing there.

"Donna," he said, dispassionately.

Jackie turned and followed suit, although her greeting was slightly more welcoming and definitely less cold.

"Donna, hey," she said, and made a move to go to her. She was stopped by Eric's hand on her stomach.

This time, a definite growl made its way past Donna's throat. "Jeeze, Eric, what the hell do you think I'm gonna do to her?" Her eyes glistened, but with tears of fury or hurt she didn't know.

Eric remained impassive, and Jackie placed a hand over his wrist, gently pushing his hand away.

She took several steps closer to Donna, stopping only when she was a step away from Donna's cart.

"Grocery shopping too?" she asked in an attempt to break the ice, and indicated the contents of the cart.

Donna snorted, a sarcastic retort ready to fly. She swallowed it as Eric's already stony expression turned to ice.

Jackie, unaware of the exchange between the two of them, took another awkward step forward, with a tentative smile on her face. Donna's sudden absence in her life had affected her, as much as she had tried not to think about it.

"I came by your house once, but Bob said you had moved back in with Randy."

"Yeah."

Jackie nodded, fiddling with the hem of her top and taking a deep breath she looked up and directly into her friend's blue-gray eyes. "I-Ive missed you, Lumberjack," she told her softly, meaning every word.

For several seconds, Donna didn't move, she didn't even blink. Then she swallowed, a lump the size of Australia lodged in her throat. For a moment, just a moment, she put aside their love for the same man, put aside the jealousy and bitterness and hatred for the girl that stole her first love away from her and looked into her heart to find what she did love about her friend in the first place.

She managed a nod, for that was all she could do. And then another, and before tears she had so far successfully managed to hold back could course down her face; her tall, blonde, magnificent specimen of a boyfriend chose that moment to make his appearance, swaggering down the aisle like a Greek god, a grin he was unable to hide lighting up his face at the sight of dark and brooding Eric Forman, who was also his current girlfriend's first boyfriend and love, looking all loved up with Jackie Burkhart.

Donna turned away as Randy took their attention. She swiped hard at the tears that leaked from her eyes, and thanked heavens that even though she might not be completely in love with her boyfriend as she should, that along with his glorious hair, he also possessed a sense of simply _impeccable_ timing.


End file.
